Remus Lupin and The Centaur Ashes
by mzmtiger
Summary: An unorthodox cure... a famous scar... a different time... different friends... and a drastically different life, unbitten, with amazing new adventures. The first volume in the epic story of Remus Lupin. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Yes, this is similar to the story _Remus Lupin and the Forbidden Forest_, which I have now written and posted on this site twice, and removed twice. And I swear, if I come back in a few months and think this is utter crap again, I will never again attempt to re-write it. But I am giving it one last go, in the name of being a better writer, and more in tune with how a story should really go. The characters were entirely too fictionalized in the last version, and I will attempt to rectify that here. Also, I've gotten somewhat better at naming them, because WOW! some of those names were crap. That said, ****Beware of OCs, as they are plentiful! ****Now, if this story is utter crap, please, please feel free to tell me, as I think it will save us all a lot of time.**

**And, since I'm terrible at descriptions _without_ a character count, I can only imagine how cruddy that summary must sound, and yet you were kind enough to click on this story any way. So let me try to give you a picture of _Remus Lupin and The Centaur Ashes_ before you start reading, in case the description was just too vague and you thought this was something it's not: This is the epic retelling of Remus Lupin's life, or at least 14 years of it, with two(2) major changes. Remus begins Hogwarts in 1984 (rather then the canon 1971), and he is not a werewolf. I repeat, he is not a werewolf. Everything is fairly well explained in this first chapter, but I wanted to make sure you understood those things.**

** Enjoy, and all reviews, including flames telling me what an utter failure I am, are welcome. But I will give you cookie for nice reviews.**

If there was one word to describe Remus John Lupin, it was _too_.

He was too tall, all long limbs and long torso and long _everything _that he handled with an unusual amount of grace most of the time. _Not clumsy, just awkward_, he would say when occasionally he stumbled over an errant object on the floor or tangled his legs as he sat in a chair. As far as the Order went, only Dumbledore and Hagrid were taller, and Sirius, the tallest of his friends from his school days, had been shorter then him by several inches.

He was too thin, particularly for someone of his height. Molly had seemed to take this as a personal affront, and had begun cooking huge meals for him as often as she could, fulfilling her job as mother figure to anyone who happened to look just a little less then fully nourished who stumbled across her path quite splendidly. He had always been lean, years of transforming and war trimmed the fat off a man much better then even the most effective diet spell, and he suspected he would always be so. His thin oxfords and faded trousers showed off a frame that was all sharp, angled joints and lean muscles, no matter how baggy he wore them.

His hair was too gray, too long, too messy. The gray made him look far older then his thirty-six years, while the length and style of the sandy brown locks was the same as he'd worn during his Hogwarts years, just starting to come back _in vogue_. Not that Remus had ever been very good at knowing what was in or out of style. Molly was always offering to cut it for him, and it had become somewhat of a running joke between him and Bill who she would get to first.

And he was too much of a werewolf for most people to even notice his smile, or his laugh, or the spark that shined behind his amber eyes through just about everything, or the fact that he was too nice to almost everyone he met, no matter how they treated him in return.

Remus had been a lycanthrope for thirty years now, and he supposed that after a while you built up a little bit of resistance, a tolerance you could call it, to the harsh words, but by that time, the lines had already been sketched prematurely and deeply into his thin, handsome face. Only a handful of people had ever gotten past the werewolf thing to really accept that there was something to Remus Lupin beyond the werewolf thing. And it seemed like most of those people were dead.

Something in the area of his heart clenched at the thought of dead friends, Sirius's death less then a month past, and he ran a hand along his chin, feeling the few day's worth of sandy beard, wishing that he'd thought to shave before coming to Hogwarts. It was considerably easier to convince people that you were _just fine_ if you looked the part.

But life goes on, and it always had, and always would, until, of course, it didn't, but that caused the heart-clenching thing to happen again, so he shoved those thoughts into some far hidden corner of his mind and muttered the password to expose the staircase up to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore had given no specific reason for calling him to the school today, but Remus assumed it was something for the Order.

It seemed everything these days was about the Order, not that Remus minded terribly. Throwing himself into work seemed to be one of two things that kept him from drowning in angst, and the other was something he had been trying to avoid lately, as it raised more questions then Remus was really ready to deal with at all.

His shoulder protested painfully as he raised his hand to knock, the fresh, deep gash along the shoulder blade adding to the stiffness of shifting bones and unnaturally stretching muscles. Soon though, it would just be yet another scar crisscrossing his pale skin, and it wasn't as though he hadn't dealt with various degrees of pain, ranging from horrifying to minor inconveniences, for his entire life, so he ignored it fairly well and raised his hand to knock again.

Just then, the door swung open and Remus quickly lowered his hand, trying to hide his discomfort at the sudden movement. Dumbledore smiled at him serenely, though he appeared to be sucking on a rather putrid piece of candy, if the slight smell it was giving off was any indication.

"Remus, I'm delighted you could come. Please," he said, stepping aside to allow the younger man to enter the office. Remus forced a small smile, attempting to shove his memories of times spent in this office into the same corner that he'd shoved his earlier thoughts. He was quite good at this, but he supposed with practice came perfect, though he certainly wasn't perfect yet, and swallowed a hard lump as he heard the door click locked behind him.

"Have a seat," Dumbledore said, and as Remus lowered himself carefully into one of the two high backed chairs in front of the desk, he realized he'd never known Dumbledore to lock his office.

"Remus, I haven't called you here today to talk about the Order, but something that relates directly to you and your 'furry little problem', as I believe James Potter often referred to it."

"What about it, sir?" asked Remus, curious as to what could be discussed about his being a werewolf. It was something that he'd almost always been, and would always be, very much a part of what he was for the past thirty years. It was how many people defined him within their minds: _Remus Lupin, resident werewolf_.

"Well, I believe, that in my research of the topic, I may have discovered a way to cure your condition, I'll admit a rather unorthodox one," said Dumbledore, with such a casual tone that Remus wondered if perhaps he had misheard the Headmaster, and rather than saying something that would drastically change Remus's life, he had simply been commenting on the weather. Perhaps his own dreams had taken to mocking him? He pinched his leg hard, the sore muscles protesting quite angrily and Remus looked up at Dumbledore, unable to hide a small grimace.

"I assure you, Remus, this is entirely real. But, like many good things, it is not without some sacrifice," he said, and the twinkle in his blue eyes, though no less intense, had a hint of sadness as he met Remus's own amber ones.

Swallowing unconsciously, Remus felt his heart twinge heavily at the thought that something he'd wanted so badly for so long could cost him dearly, "Sir, what, um, what is the-," he asked, struggling for words, caught somewhere between hope and horror, which was an uncomfortable place to be to say the least.

"You will, to put it simply, be starting over. If you go back, and stop yourself from being bitten, you'll be living a drastically different life from the age of six on. Not only will you prevent yourself from becoming a werewolf, but through this particular method, you will also alter the entire course of your existence. You'll be living in a different time, with different people, and if I do say so myself, very different adventures."

Remus knew his jaw was hanging open at perhaps a truly astonishing angle, but the part of his brain that was in charge of basic motor functions seemed to have been disabled by what Dumbledore had said. When he managed to reconnect his muscles to his brain, it took every bit of concentration he possessed to stutter out a simple, "H-How?"

"Ah, that is the most important question, isn't? Well, I suppose I should start at the beginning, with your parents. I've never seen two people who were as devoted to their son as they were to you, Remus. They would have given almost anything to see you free of your affliction, and when they couldn't find a cure, they made your life as comfortable as was within their power. They were not perfect people, but no one truly is, and they were both truly wonderful people. They were a very powerful witch and wizard, and nice almost to a fault. There is so much of both of them in you," Dumbledore said, and Remus blushed. It had been a long time since anyone had talked about his parents, and no one had ever given them quite the glowing description that Dumbledore had.

"Shortly before your father's death, he came to me and asked me to continue their search for something to help you. He was in very poor health at the time, and your mother's death had left a deep mark on him, but he never gave up the hope that someday you would be free of the wolf. I agreed, because by that time, through your years at Hogwarts and your work with the Order, I knew you quite well, and didn't think I could find a nicer or more deserving young man in the entire world," Remus blushed again at the compliment, and Dumbledore paused to remove two small items from one of his desk drawers.

Remus studied the two seemingly random items on the desk in between himself and the headmaster with interest. One had the appearance of being an overly intricate Time Turner with a rusty chain, while the other was an unpolished deep black stone, with colored veins shot through it. The veins seemed to dance and buzz happily as Remus watched, and it took effort to drag his eyes back up to Dumbledore's.

The headmaster slipped his long fingers under the chain of the Time Turner first, holding it aloft so that Remus could see into the tiny hourglass at eye level, and said, "This is, as I assume you have guessed, a Time Turner. But it is no ordinary Turner. In fact, I'm not sure if 'turner' is really an accurate term for it. You see, while an ordinary Time Turner can send you back minutes, even hours, and then let the time play out in a natural progression until the moment you went back, this can be used to send you back years, and then pull you back to your current time. A Time "Yo-Yo", if you will," Dumbledore said with a smile, and Remus gave his own nervous one at the joke.

"We can send you back to prevent yourself from ever being bitten. But this, of course, presents a problem. When you are pulled back to the present, you will suddenly have thirty years of life, of memories, that you never actually lived. They will simply be blurry pictures and moments that you will be unable to fully figure out if you actually lived them or not. And a life not actually lived is hardly a life at all. Which is where the second item comes in.

"This is Eneidfuna Carega, a Soul-Combining Stone in English. It's usually used in traditional magical Welsh marriage ceremonies, or even at deathbeds, to infuse just a little of the dying person into perhaps a great-grandchild they will never meet, though it is hardly ever used to the degree that we will use it. If you clasp it between your wand hand, your right, and the wand hand of your younger version, also his right, of course, under the full moon on a summer night, the two souls will merge.

"Because they are as similar as two souls can possibly be, being the soul of the same person, you will revert to the younger version, your six year old self, and all memories of anything past the moment you merged, or of your interactions with you as you are now, will be erased. It is a truly remarkably complicated process, and I could spend months upon months trying to explain what parts of it I do understand, as it is quite fascinating, but I've rambled on enough, and I can sense your anxiousness, which is understandable in these circumstances," he said as Remus blushed again, wondering if it was possible to spontaneously combust if your cheeks grew that hot repeatedly in such a short amount of time.

"But, because of the age gap between you now and you when Greyback attacked you, you, hopefully unbitten and merged into one soul, will be pulled forward in time thirteen years. Or, at least, that is what I've managed to calculate. Again, I'm not an expert, but I'm fairly certain that number, thirteen, is correct. So, instead of starting Hogwarts in 1971, you will be a first year in 1984. If I'm not mistaken, that would be the year that young Miss Tonks first graced Hogwarts with her lovely presence," said Dumbledore, with a smile that was more knowing than Remus was really comfortable with.

He would have laughed at the words "Tonks" and "grace" being used in the same sentence, had his heart not clenched in an entirely different way at the mention of the young Auror. Being around her seemed to make the near constant ache in his heart ease away into a pleasant, fuzzy feeling in his stomach that he hadn't ever quite experienced to this extent before. But lately, the fuzzy warmness had been migrating from his stomach to his heart, and he wasn't quite sure how to react.

"And this life? I mean, if I go back, how much of this life will I have left? In my memories?" he asks, although the tight lump that's taken up residence behind his sternum tells him that he already knows the answer to that. But his mind is whirling from the sheer magnitude of this _thing_ in front of him, and he wants to know as much as possible.

At this, Dumbledore's smile turned sad as he said, "Not much at all. If you go back and change things, none of them will really have existed. Maybe, occasionally, a particularly strong connection may stir up something that goes beyond memory, but, Remus, if you go back, you'll be sacrificing everything good in _this life_. If you go back, it's likely that you'll never know Frank or Alice Longbottom, the Prewett twins, the Samurs.

"You'll never meet Lily Evans or James Potter, they'll all be lost to the First War before you even receive your Hogwarts' letter. You'll never know Sirius before Azkaban, or Peter as the boy you befriended at Hogwarts. No detentions with the Marauders, no late night study sessions with Lily. The group of friends that were such an important part of your life will never be a part of this new life. You'll never be Moony, and Remus, of all the titles you've ever held, prestigious and not, I know that that means more to you the anything.

"But know also that this new life, should you choose to go back, may present the same sorts of opportunities, and greater, things you never could have dreamed of in this life. Think, not having to worry about receiving a Hogwarts letter, being free to try out for the Quidditch team, no worrying about falling asleep in class because of exhaustion you have no control over, being able to pursue your clear love of teaching without prejudice. And perhaps, you may find new friends, and form bonds with them that go beyond even, dare I say, what you had with the Marauders.

"And," said Dumbledore, mischievous quality back in the twinkle behind the half-moon glasses, "every excuse you have thought of for not pursuing a relationship with young Nymphadora will be dealt with in perhaps a single blow, which is good, as you two have clearly fallen very much in love with each other. I've found that no amount of time or magic can alter true love," he held a hand up with a smile at Remus's sputtering syllables after the last comment, and continued, "This is not without sacrifice, as I said before, and it seems monumentally unfair to ask a man who has already sacrificed so much to just give it all up, all the happy moments he has accumulated, and start over, but I wouldn't tell you about it if I didn't think it was a good option.

"Remus," he said, meeting the other man's eyes with an intensity in his own that Remus has seen only a few times in all the years that he's known Dumbledore, "there is this force inside of you, a grand force for good, a will, a need to make things right again, to fix the problems of the world in front of you. And you are a fabulous ambassador for this need, and a vital, if not essential, member of the Order of the Phoenix. But there is something more, something good and right that you strive for that cannot be achieved by simply playing your part.

"Is it impossible for you to achieve this within the confines of this life? No. But outside of it, in this new life of different possibilities, of different people and occasions, there is a beautiful opportunity right in front of you," Dumbledore said, then relaxed back into his chair, his eyes never leaving Remus's. "But, the choice is not mine, only yours. It is your life after all, and it is you who must choose how to lead it."

Remus just sat there for a second, his mind jumbled and slow, and he can feel every ache and pain from the previous full moon as if he's trapped inside the exhaustion, and rationale decisions seem like a bad idea, and for a moment he can perhaps grasp for the first time Sirius's utter need to drown the voices inside his head out by dousing them in Firewhiskey.

The hope and unknown of this new life stretching out in front of him, and the comfortable known of his current life, which, while less than perfect, is at least more than a complicated hypothetical. And his friends are here, or at least they used to be, and even if their memories seem to cause the uncomfortable heart-clenching feeling, at least there are memories.

And of course, there is Dora. He smiles slightly at the nickname, grudgingly accepted when she'd been unable to convince him to stop calling her Nymphadora, and he can see her face, happy and energetic and _young_, dark eyes and pale skin and pink hair, and thinks how he would do anything to tell her how he felt. And Dumbledore seems to think she feels the same way, might return that strange warmness in and around his heart, and that here is the perfect opportunity to eliminate every excuse he has in one fell swoop.

"Sir, could I perhaps burrow your Pensieve for a few minutes?" he asked, surprised at the scratchiness of his own voice, and wondered if the thick, fast swirling of his thoughts was reflected in the amber of his eyes.

"Of course," said Dumbledore, gesturing to the cabinet off to the side of his desk as he stood, "Now, I'm simply famished, and I believe I'll go place my lunch order with the house elves. I think I'll have chicken today, would you like me to order something for you?" he asked, but Remus shook his head as his eyes fell to the Eneidfuna Carega, the colored veins against the dark of the stone mesmerizing him for a moment. He heard the door click closed behind him, the unfamiliar click of the lock, and stood slowly, giving his muscles time to adjust to standing again, before he crossed to the cupboard and pulled the doors open gently. He can see his face reflected just slightly in the swirling silver liquid, and thought about the memories he wanted, pulling them to the top of his mind. Remus touched his wand to his temple, transporting the thin silver threads one by one, slowly, carefully, into the basin.

For a moment, he considers just stirring up the memories, watching the scenes he knows so well play out in front of him in ghostly silver, but another moment and he's lowering his face into the basin before him, a coolness flowing off the silver, touching his face in tendrils until his nose brushed the liquid and he plunged head first into his own memories.

His feet arrived on solid ground abruptly, and he stumbled just a bit, found himself almost face to face with eleven-year-old Remus, paler even then usual in the flickering candlelight of the Great Hall, the patched Sorting Hat falling over his head and the whispering voice already loud in his ear. He can still hear it almost twenty years later.

_Ahhh, a quiet one. Always one, every year it seems, with the heart of a lion all wrapped up in quiet contemplation and secrets. And oh, the secrets inside your head, Mr. Lupin._

And Remus can see himself quaking on the stool, scared to death that instead of shouting a house name, it will screech "WEREWOLF!" to the heavens and the Hall, and everything will be ruined. But instead, the resounding call of "GRYFFINDOR!" breaks the silence, and he can see the young boy still shaking as he makes his way to the table. He moved on to the next memory, the dark enchanted sky exchanging for the tall ceiling of Professor McGonagall's classroom.

Two dark haired boys sat in front of him, one longhaired, casually flicking a bit of parchment between himself and the messy haired boy next to him. A small mousy haired boy is sitting a few desks down from them, where he'd moved to work on homework to avoid being distracted. He was doing a terrible job.

And next to him sat his younger version, dozing on his hand, full moon night exhaustion taking over him as he watched his friends. This morning, as he'd emerged from the Whomping Willow, he'd seen their shadows silhouetted against the rising blood red sun, and thought that there could be no more terrible sight.

But now, as James turned around and flicked the parchment at Remus, and Remus returned the paper with a sleepy smile, he knew they wouldn't leave him. And in that moment, though they will have years of school and some time after that to be friends, though their adventures will extend, in both depth and distance, far beyond this simple classroom, in his memory, there is no moment where these three boys were more real to him.

And then the last memory, a lonely hallway in Grimmauld, far enough after Christmas that the children have returned to school, but close enough that no one really questioned the presence of the small sprig of mistletoe hanging in the library door. At least, no one had questioned it until this moment, when Nymphadora Tonks had tripped into his arms in the doorway.

They'd both looked up at the same time, and then back to each other, and it seemed as though everything else was frozen. As Tonks righted herself, smiling nervously, Remus tried to reassure her with a smile of his own, but he was sure it came off just as unsure as hers had. Then suddenly, she'd pushed up on to her toes, and he, expecting a quick peck on the cheek, was caught off guard when her lips met his.

He could feel her arms around his neck, and rested his against her waist for a moment as he felt her tongue dart out lightly against his lips before she pulled back, million Galleon smile in place, splitting cheeks that were slightly red. She'd walked away then, whistling a slightly familiar Christmas carol with a tempo that seemed to change every few beats, and left Remus standing there, the warmness inside his heart accompanied by wonder at what had just happened in the dingy hallway of 12 Grimmauld Place.

As he pulled his face from the Pensieve, and let his mind come back from the memories, he glanced over at Dumbledore's desk, at the two small wooden picture frames lost among all the various silver instruments that cluttered the desk. Walking over slowly, his hand fell to the first, a black and white picture, slightly faded, crumpled around the edges even in the frame, a solid, comforting age to it.

Remus looked over the familiar faces, thought of all the memories, all the time spent among those people, the mornings after full moons spent in a kitchen buzzing with activity rather then a tiny, empty flat, meetings that lasted long past the point they probably should have. All those people lost, but so much life lived, those colorful vivid people who Remus had fought with, had seen grow and live and die, captured in one moment, smiling, laughing, waving at the camera heedless of the fate that awaited many of their number.

And then the second picture, more familiar faces, more fond memories. He remembered their patience with an ever more temperamental Sirius, their kindness to him, food and clothing often literally shoved at him after he'd refused many times. He can even now smell the foul smoke of Mundungus's pipe, Molly's cooking, Arthur sitting at the table, fiddling with his newest Muggle gadget, more redheads than seemed possible sometimes, Sirius slouched at the table, Firewhiskey forgotten as he talks with Dora and Moody. He touched the smiling faces of those already lost, and then his finger found his own image.

He's smiling, an honest smile, wide, teeth showing, slightly off balance as Tonks clung to his side, laughing heartily at his joke about Snape's hair, her pink hair a sharp contrast to the shabbiness of his robe. But next to her, he looks less old, less worn out, the smile de-aging him as effectively as any potion.

And in that moment, looking between the two pictures, and seeing how different they are, how similar, he made his decision, just as the door clicked open behind him, and Dumbledore came in, levitating a small tray in front of him. Remus collected the memories carefully, letting them sink back into his mind, as he turned to the headmaster, and he can tell that Dumbledore sees his thoughts splashed across his face, but he asks aloud anyway, "Have you come to a decision?"

"Yes, sir. I want to go back. I want my chance," said Remus, not sure what this chance is, but feeling a deep burning inside his heart for it. Of course, it could just be heartburn, the logical part of his brain said, but Remus told the logical part of his brain to shove off and met Dumbledore's eyes.

"Very well, then," said Dumbledore, though the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth gave away his great approval. Carefully setting the tray on his desk, he picked up the Time Turner and the stone, and approached Remus. Draping the chain over his neck, he handed the stone to Remus slowly and backed away, retrieving his wand from the folds of his robes.

"Now, Remus, I should tell you. As the person who sent you back, I will always have a vague recollection of you as you are now, even in that other life. It is possible that I will retain many of my memories of this you, and if you wish, when I think it proper, I can perhaps share them with you."

Remus considered it for a moment, before shaking his head, staring resolutely at his battered shoes, "No, I don't think I'd want to know, that there was this other path, that I had lived it and left it. I just," he paused for a second, "I think I might think it cowardly," he said, a hint of shame in his voice.

"Remus," said Dumbledore, moving forward to place a long, warm hand on his shoulder, "Wanting a second chance is not cowardice. It takes a lot of courage to simply start over, no matter what you may be leaving or going towards."

At that point, Remus looked up, the real matter coming out when he saw the two pictures again, sitting there, and spoke, "I never stopped them. God, I never personally did anything to him, but I never ever said a word to stop them. I wanted so badly to be liked that I just let them do as they wished."

Dumbledore smiled sadly, "No one is perfect, Mr. Lupin, no matter how hard they try. You like to be liked, almost to a fault, and while this sometimes makes for poor decision-making, it is nothing that other people do not struggle with. Our deficiencies make us who we are just as much as our capacities. Never forget that, Remus, that with every mistake comes a chance to grow, to become more yourself. Mistakes are made, will always be made, but it is no grand sin to want to be liked."

Remus nodded, and Dumbledore stepped back again, "Well, we should begin then. There is no going back once you do this," he said, but Remus only nodded again, eyes still fixed on his shoes, "Now, once I send you back, you'll have five minutes to use the Stone to bind before you're pulled back, and the reason this particular kind of Turner is so rare is the fact that it can only be used once. Meaning that this very well may be a once in a lifetime opportunity," he said, and Remus nodded once again as he swallowed against the heavy lump in his throat.

Dumbledore removed something from his pocket, something wrapped in a dark blue cloth dotted with yellow stars, and held it out to Remus, who took it gingerly, letting the cloth fall away to reveal a silver ball as Dumbledore explained, "If you are unable to drive Greyback off in time, make sure your younger version is in possession of this before you use the Stone. It works like an egg, the outside breakable, the inside liquid. It could be his last line of defense."

Remus nodded, and felt the stone in his pocket, buzzing almost happily against his palm, a warmth and solidness radiating from it, giving the impression that it would do it's best in whatever it was asked to do. It soothed some of his nerves away as Dumbledore smiled at him, twirling his wand absently between his long fingers, looking like he had something more to say.

Finally, with a proud smile, he met Remus's eyes and calmly leveled his wand at the Time Turner sitting against Remus's chest, "Remus, I believe you have a great destiny, something much beyond anything that you or I or anyone else can even begin to imagine. I believe that your life will be full of adventure and mystery and friendship and love, enough to keep a young man busy for a very long time. Something great awaits you, Remus Lupin, a fate far beyond your wildest dreams. You are a great man, and I expect nothing but the best from this second chance you've been given. I'm sure you won't disappoint me," he said, and with a grand flourish of his wand, the Time Turner began to spin rapidly.

The last thing Remus saw before he disappeared into a world of swirling colors and sounds was the bright twinkle in the blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore behind the half-moon glasses. And then he was gone.

There was no way to comprehend time or space as it was now, moving around him in a confusing pattern of colors, and the noise was almost overwhelming, but the Turner spun a steady beat against his chest, and the Eneidfuga Carega still buzzed happily in his pocket, so he kept a hand wrapped tightly around it and hoped for the best.

His feet hit the ground quite suddenly, and he barely managed to keep his balance as the normal world came back into focus. Remus now stood in the small forested area that he'd looked out over from his bedroom window growing up. The house, the only steady home he'd ever known besides Hogwarts, could be seen from the clearing, sitting peacefully, utterly unaware of the events that were about to change it forever, one way or another.

With shaking hands, he removed his pocket watch, a present from his father for his fifteenth birthday, and glanced at the time: _6:49_. Sunrise was fast approaching, but there was plenty of night left. He was still staring at the watch when he heard the strange scratching sound, oddly musical, and looked up to find himself staring at, well, himself.

Young Remus was perched on a rather large boulder, the only big rock within a couple miles, long, broken tree branch in his hands. As he moved it carefully up and down the rock, the tip dragged across the ridges, creating the scratching song that had caught Remus's attention. He remembered his thought process that June morning so long ago, how he'd woken up early, couldn't get back to sleep, wondered what outside was like at this time, as he'd never been.

_Rather boring_, Remus remembered, and almost smiled, but suddenly, a thick crack filled the clearing, and he looked up to see his younger self holding the two halves of the stick, staring at it in frustration before climbing down off the rock to look for a new stick. As he did this, Remus began a silent countdown in his head: _Fifteen, fourteen_.

He'd seen this memory so often, in his waking mind and his dreams, that he knew exactly how long between the stick snapping and Greyback's arrival. _Twelve, eleven_. His younger self turned his back to a small break in the trees, just before a quiet snap of twigs was heard, but didn't notice it. Remus swallowed, removed his wand from his robes, could _feel_ Greyback approaching. _Three, two_.

And there they were, the pair of green-brown eyes that Remus still dreamed about, emerging from the small space, and Greyback had arrived. _One_.

"_Stupefy_!" he shouted, just as the werewolf lunged toward the younger Remus, and the beam of red light connected dead center, but it simply diverted the wolf's course a little, rather then stunning it. It was just too large, with too much magic and raw power, to be dealt with by a simple spell, but it was the most effective thing Remus could do at the moment.

The younger Remus had scrambled back up on to the boulder at the shout, and looked down on the scene with wide, terror-filled eyes. _At least_, Remus thought, _this time, if he gets me, at least I'll get to see his face_. Casting another spell, Remus moved out of the slight cover of the trees, the moon revealing his features fully. He didn't miss the surprise and confusion that flashed across the boy's face for a moment before it filled with terror again.

Remus noted, as another jet of red light met Greyback's continued assaults on the boulder, that the werewolf seemed intent only on reaching his younger version, totally oblivious to the man sending spell after spell at it. He assumed that it was something to do with the fact that this he, because of the Time Turner, wasn't fully a part of this time, and the wolf just couldn't understand it.

Greyback moved quicker than Remus expected, and his "_Stupefy!"_ sailed a few hairs over its back, and its claws scraped against the rock inches from young Remus's toes. Startled, the boy, barely balanced on the very tip of the rock, tumbled backward, landing heavily on his shoulder. As his younger self struggled to get to his feet, Remus strode forward and pulled him up, pushing him behind him, muttering a quick apology as his hand brushed past the sore shoulder.

Fumbling with his pocket watch as he kept his wand leveled at Greyback, Remus glanced at the hands, and dug out the dark stone as he herded the other Remus farther back.

"Give me your hand," Remus said, holding out his own right, the stone vibrating in his palm. Though he looked wary, the young boy clasped his own around Remus's with a glance over his shoulder at the werewolf. And the world seemed to stop, everything going blurry around the edges except for the two Remuses and a strange light that had engulfed their joined hands.

Returning his wand to his pocket, Remus felt the velvet surrounding the silver ball that Dumbledore had given him, and carefully withdrew it from his pocket. As he handed it to the younger Remus, he said, "Use it wisely. You've got one shot."

The boy considered it for a second, letting the cloth fall open to reveal the silver, before nodding, and asking, "Is this going to hurt?"

Remus gave a small laugh, "Honestly, I don't know. This is as new to me as it is to you," he said, and the younger Remus nodded carefully. There was steeliness behind the amber eyes, trained on the growing light, now creeping up their arms. As it touched his shoulder, Remus could feel the buzzing in the thick scar tissue there.

He remembered how it had felt, as the teeth sunk deep into his shoulder, cracking the blade in half, the impact of the collision shattering one of his ribs and breaking three more, his blood pooling thickly underneath him, chest and back slashed open. Only surviving because his mother was a Healer at St. Mungo's, many of her colleagues refusing to treat Remus because of the nature of the attack. He thinks that the pain must have simply been trying to prepare him for the torturous agony of full moons to come.

He remembered how empty his chest had felt the day after he had lost everything, his friends, how the world had celebrated around him as he sat in his dingy flat and focused on feeling his heartbeat just to make sure that there was something still there, something that kept him going.

He remembered the silent triumph in Snape's eyes as he'd left Hogwarts, McGonagall's pity, something that simply didn't suit the Gryffindor head of house. How like a failure he felt as those huge doors slammed shut behind him. And how, when he walked the streets after his exposure, it felt as though everyone was looking disdainfully down on him, despite the fact that he was usually the tallest person in sight.

But he also remembered the light behind Lily's eyes as they studied in the library, and in Harry's eyes, so like hers, as his first flimsy Patronus flowed slowly from the tip of his wand, and the light in the eyes of the others, Hermione's as she absorbed new information like a sponge, Ron's as the magic flowed from his new wand. And Neville's, the dark blue-green depths lighting up with happiness, not simply because Snape in drag was funny, but also because he had done something right, undeniably, unalterably right. He remembered the way his chest shook with laughter at James and Sirius's antics, or the feeling of loyalty that had welled up inside his heart when those three young boys walked back to the castle with him after they knew.

His watch was growing warm and vibrating slightly in his pocket, and withdrawing it, he watched as the magical numbers etched into the face changed gradually from _6-18-66_ to _6-18-79_, and Remus smiled as his thoughts turned to Dora, and just how much he wanted Dumbledore to be as right about her feelings for him as he had been about the year change.

Remus remembered the sparkle in her dark eyes, and the way her laugh bounced around the dingy kitchen of Grimmauld, how much of a calming effect her presence had on Sirius. How her hand felt brushing lightly across his forehead as she pushed his fringe out of his eyes, as he'd caught her doing several times when he'd fallen asleep on the couch in the study, full moon exhaustion taking over, waking to find her blushing and stammering excuses as to why she'd been staring at him for so long.

And he remembered the feel of her lips pressed over his, tongue ghosting along the chapped skin of his lower lip as her fingers tangled slightly in the hairs at the nape of his neck, Remus wishing that this moment could last forever. The corners of her lips quirked up even as she kissed him, and he'd thought nothing could be more perfect.

_A chance_, he thought, as the light engulfed everything from his neck down, _not just for me, but for us. Just a chance._

One last breath as the old Remus Lupin, full moon air filling his lungs for the first time in nearly thirty years, and then the light engulfed him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Since no one seems to think this is utter crap (or at least they didn't tell me), I'm going to continue. In the original story, Remus's scar is a small paw print on his right arm. I like this scenario better for many reasons: it seems more realistic, it opens up some awesome scar angst, and it draws some nice parallels between Remus's original bite mark and this new scar.**

**Disclaimer: I suppose I can lay claim to Sam and Lawrence, but that's about it. Everything else belongs to J.K.**

Remus blinked and looked at the werewolf regrouping in front of him. The silver ball he held in his hand was cool and solid to the touch, and he remembered something his father had told him once, as they'd gazed out from Remus's window at the full moon illuminating the clearing he now stood in. Ignoring the wave of pain and stiffness that emanated from his shoulder at the motion, he pulled his arm back and threw the ball as hard as he could at the werewolf.

It missed by a margin that seemed impossibly small, and shattered against the large tree behind the wolf with a sound like heartbreak.

His only option as the wolf lunged at Remus was to dive to the ground, and he felt the heat and power soar over him by inches, the sound of its claws once again clattering against the boulder. Another shot of pain ripped through his shoulder as he rolled over and scrambled to his feet, moving backwards as well as he could towards the tree with the silver still dripping down it, the bark causing it to make odd patterns. His eyes locked on the wolf, he failed to notice the heavy tree root inches from his foot.

Remus tripped, his arms flailing in a losing battle against gravity.

His bruised right shoulder, already aching from his three-foot drop off the rock, slammed into the tree, and he could feel the heavy bark digging into his skin. It hurt _a lot_, more then anything had ever hurt him before, and the silver burned, deep inside the cuts now, and he couldn't move, was suddenly weighed down by exhaustion and pain and the thought of what comes next. Back pressed against the tree, legs shaking, he waited.

The werewolf turned, fixed thick, green-brown eyes on him, let its lips curl back over its teeth, and Remus could have sworn it was smiling, but he thought it was probably an illusion created by the fact that the pain was causing his vision to swim. And then the wolf's mouth is open and it is leaping, and Remus screwed his eyes shut against the huge jaw full of dripping, terrifying teeth.

His feet lost their grip on the mucky blood and silver and dirt beneath his feet, and he fell, his shoulder and neck scraping across the bark, and suddenly, the werewolf has smashed into the tree above him. Remus can't tell the difference between the werewolf's blood and his own, and even with the full moon, it's really too dark to differentiate between blood and silver.

Crawling away from the tree, every moment causing a nauseating pain to rip through his shoulder and neck, he collapsed near the boulder that mere minutes ago he'd been sitting on, and turned back to look at the wolf. It let out a pitiful sound caught somewhere between a whine and a howl, and turned to face Remus.

The right side of its face, neck and right shoulder were covered in the silver, and Remus could hear it burning against the skin. Its snout was contorted at a terrible angle, and although its right foreleg seemed to have escaped most of the silver, its left had not been so fortunate, and hung useless, unmoving.

A door banged open behind him, and the clearing was suddenly filled with the calm yellow light of a lantern. John Lupin stood framed in the doorway, lantern held high above his head to illuminate his injured son and the werewolf.

"Remus, what are you doing out-!" he said, but his shout was cut off when he noticed the silver covered werewolf slumped at the edge of the circle of light. For a moment, he was stunned silent, and then a shout tore from his throat.

"FENRIR GREYBACK, GET AWAY FROM MY SON!" John rushed forward, not realizing until he was much closer just how badly both his son and the wolf were injured, and his blue eyes went wide as he looked at Remus, the blood staining his ripped shirt. As he reached his son, the first glimpse of the sun peeked over the horizon, and Greyback froze where he was, the change suddenly beginning to take hold.

Remus watched in horrified fascination as the wolf in front of him writhed painfully, until all that remained was a fairly small, dirty man, wearing a torn shirt and brown pants that barely reached his knees. His left arm hung, mangled, useless at his side as his front leg had in wolf form, and his face was horribly scarred, thin veins of sizzling silver still clinging to it.

Panting with pain, Greyback swiped a hand across his face angrily, and glared death at Remus as he spoke to John, "He'll pay, Lupin. You'll both pay," and then he was gone. As Greyback disappeared, Remus lost the battle with his churning stomach, and vomited, tears streaming down his face.

His father pulled him into his arms and Remus sobbed against the comfortable warmth of his father's t-shirt, tears of pain and fear and confusion and exhaustion. How long they stayed there, Remus was unsure, but his father didn't move until Remus's tears subsided, and then gently leaned back to meet his son's eyes.

"Did he bite you? Remus, is that what happened to your shoulder?" asked John, unable to keep the fear out of his eyes.

"N-no," said Remus, fighting back tears still. "I tripped, and hit my shoulder on the tree," he continued, pointing to the tree, the blood and silver shining in the early morning sun.

"Oh, thank God," said John, then carefully peeled the bloodstained parts of Remus's shirt away from his shoulder, "Let's have a look at this then. See if we need to take you to Mungo's."

But as John Lupin studied his son's shoulder, he could see no fresh cuts, only a thick patch of scar tissue that covered his right shoulder and extended several inches up his neck. The blood surrounding the wound was still warm and wet, only slightly tacky, but there was no open wound to speak of. Only the thick scar tissue, dark pink against Remus's pale skin.

Before he could do more than puzzle over the miraculously healed wound, a voice called out, "John! Rosey! What's going on?" and their neighbor, a Daily Prophet reporter named Horton Quick, stepped out onto his front porch, wand held tightly in his hand.

"Remus was attacked," said John, and added as an afterthought, "by a werewolf."

"Was he… bitten?" asked Quick, noticeably recoiling.

"No," said John, as he continued to stare at the huge scar that now covered his son's shoulder, "He's fine."

"Really?" asked the reporter, his curiosity peaked, "That's excellent. How'd he manage that?" he continued after a pause, reaching over to the small table next to him, standing his quill on the point as John scooped his small son up carefully and moved towards his neighbor's house.

Remus told the story in broken sentences, exhaustion and the lingering pain keeping him from even the basic coherency of a normal six-year-old. He clung desperately to his mother, who'd come out of the house a few minutes into the story. John and Rosey had had a rapid, intense discussion for a minute before Rosey came over to inspect her son's shoulder as he talked.

Soon though, the broken sentences became nothing more than _yes_ or _no_ answers, but by that time, Quick was almost bouncing up and down where he stood. As John once again scooped his son up to his chest, Horton Quick closed his door, grabbed his cloak and apparated on the spot. If he hurried, it was possible that he could get his story into the morning addition of the Prophet. He thought they might make an exception, even if the papers arrived late this morning.

John went to check on the twins, Samuel and Lawrence, who had turned two just a few days before, while his mother took Remus to clean the blood off of him before he went back to bed. Running a warm washcloth over his shoulder and neck as he sat unmoving on the edge of the bathtub, bare feet sitting in a few inches of water to wash the dirt off, she marveled at the impressive expanse of scar tissue that now covered it.

"Remus?" she asked, and he looked up at her, eyes wide amber pools staring deeply into the swirling patterns of dirt around his feet. "Does it hurt, honey, when I touch… it?" she continued, not sure what to call the scar, so newly formed, yet clearly so much a part of his skin now.

He shook his head, long hair falling into his eyes, and he ran one wet hand through his fringe, pushing it out of his amber eyes as his mother finished washing the last of the blood and dirt. Remus was clearly exhausted, and she helped him into a shirt and scooped him up, the boy feeling weightless in her arms tonight, so light despite his tallness, and Rosey tucked him deep inside the blankets on his bed, being careful of his shoulder. But Remus seemed not to really notice it, except to roll onto his left side and burrow deeper into the blankets. Rosey took one last look at her eldest and put out the light.

Cuddling deeper into his blankets, Remus Lupin knew nothing of what lay ahead of him, knew only the warmness of his bed and the deep feeling of sleepiness that was overcoming him. He didn't know that in a few hours, he and his new scar would become a symbol of courage and hope for a wizarding world that desperately need such symbols, that for months, and even years afterward, his name would be spoken with reverence and awe, and that he would never quite be able to fully escape the fame that would forever follow the new mark splashed on his shoulder, inching up onto his neck slightly. That this was only a small taste of the adventures that awaited him.

As he drifted off, giving up in the battle against sleep, Remus Lupin didn't know any of this.

"Merlin's beard!"

His father's voice broke through Remus's sleepy haze, and the six-year-old sat up, rubbing at his eyes, shielding them from the mid-morning light spilling into the room. Climbing out of his bed, he padded through the hallway and down the stairs into the kitchen. His parents were both staring at the front page of _The Daily Prophet_, but whatever they found so interesting was blocked from Remus's view by their backs.

"'S goin' on?" Remus asked, speech still clouded by sleep. His parents turned away from the paper to look at him as one, or both, of the twins began fussing upstairs. Rosey and John exchanged a glance before she moved toward the stairs and he turned so that Remus could climb up onto his lap.

Remus couldn't read very well yet, but the picture was clear enough. There he stood, clinging to his mother, amber eyes wide, bloody, ripped shirt framing his shoulder for all to see. And there it was, the deep pink scar, covering his shoulder almost completely and climbing up his neck several inches, so that even now, with a clean, whole shirt, you could still see part of it.

Remus's hand unconsciously strayed to his shoulder as he asked his dad, "What does it say?" and his father pulled him closer as he began to read.

"'Boy Defeats Infamous Werewolf'. That's the headline," said John, and Remus traced the thick black letters with the fingers of his right hand, feeling the slight stiffness there, the scar seemingly old, but the injury new.

_In dark times such as these, it is often hard to find even the smallest spark of hope. But early this morning, before the sun had even peeked over the horizon, one such spark ignited in a most spectacular fashion._

_ Remus Lupin, who turned six this past March, was wandering the woods behind his home in a bout of insomnia when out of the trees emerged none other than Fenrir Greyback himself._

_ Greyback is a werewolf best known for biting very young children, and then stealing them away from their parents to be raised in his "care", attempting to turn them to his views of the world. Greyback is suspected of having strong connections to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

_ After avoiding several attacks by the beast, young Remus used his only defense besides his own wits and reflexes, a ball full of molten silver he had found while exploring his family's attic earlier in the day. But his throw missed by only a small margin, and smashed into a large tree behind the werewolf. As he scrambled away from yet another attack, his foot caught on a heavy tree root and his right shoulder, already bruised from a former avoidance, smashed into the tree._

_ Remus was stuck, overcome by exhaustion and pain, as the bark had sliced deep into his shoulder and the silver had seeped into the cuts. All seemed lost as the werewolf prepared for another attack, but at the last second, Remus slipped in the mud at his feet and successfully dodged the attack._

_ The beast smashed into the tree, and as Remus stumbled away, he turned back to look at the injured werewolf. Greyback was badly burned by the silver and crushed by the impact, and by the time John Lupin emerged from the house, his son had already won the fight. And as the sun rose and the beast once again became a man, John Lupin hugged his injured son to his chest._

_ Greyback, his left arm mangled, the right side of his face and right shoulder badly burned and scarred, vowed revenge before he disappeared into the forest. John Lupin cradled his son to him for a moment, before beginning to examine the injured right shoulder._

_ But the shoulder, despite the fact that the torn shirt surrounding it was stained with wet blood, was not injured. Where the wounds should be, instead there was a thick, pink scar, covering his entire right shoulder, and several inches of the right side of his neck. The injury was minutes old, but the scar looked as though it had always been a part of Remus._

_ And it may very well have been. For his scar is a clear and physical expression of the bravery that one boy can show. By defeating this monster, by demonstrating this nearly unimaginable amount of courage, Remus Lupin has become more than an ordinary six-year-old boy._

_ He, and his scar, has become a symbol for hope, for courage, for light, in a time when the wizarding world needs these things above all else. Let us raise a toast to Remus Lupin, and may we all someday follow his example!_

Remus looked up at his father with wide amber eyes, and John pulled his son close, arms wrapped tightly around him, fingers straying unconsciously toward the new mark on his shoulder.

"What happens now?" asked Remus, against the comforting smell and warmth of his father's shirt.

"I don't know, Remus, I really don't," John said, and then ran out of words, and pulled the boy against him again for a moment, "Why don't you go back up to bed, rest a little while before your mum gets you for lunch. You still look so tired."

Remus just looked up at him with those amber eyes again, and he scooped his son up, something that was getting harder as he got taller, and stood. Carefully climbing the stairs, he reached Remus's room and slowly moved to his bed.

As he watched his son drift off once again, John Lupin knew something about what those words, that picture meant for his son, for Remus's future. But not even he could have guessed what adventures awaited Remus.

And as for Remus himself, he was blissfully unaware of even the slightest hint of what awaited him.


	3. Chapter 3

**A more believable backstory for Remus's wand than in the original, and the proper introduction of Remus's family, also expanded since the original. Also, I apologize for any glaring Americanisms, feel ****free to point them out to me. And of course, reviews are always appreciated.**

A pair of green-brown eyes, caught in the intensity of the hate radiating from them. A moment of utter terror, and then an explosion of silver and pain ripped through his shoulder.

Remus awoke with a start, his hand straying automatically to his right shoulder as the pain spread up into his neck for a moment before it disappeared, leaving stiffness that he knew would linger for the rest of the day. Rolling over, hand still pressed over his shoulder, Remus buried his face in his pillow, letting the comforting scent wash over him, recalling the familiar dream.

Over five years had passed since that night, and he still had the same dream every full moon, the same flash of pain through his shoulder and neck. And always something, something that slipped away on the last tendrils of sleep, something lost to the pain and sudden wakefulness that he could never quite remember.

Pulling his face out of the pillow, he glanced over at his father, asleep in an uncomfortable wooden chair next to the window, wand clutched tightly in his right hand. John Lupin had kept the same watch over his son every full moon, Greyback's parting vow of revenge echoing in his ears.

Remus could hear the faint sounds of his mother downstairs, making breakfast, the house quiet with the twins and Grace still sleeping. The thought of food drew him from under the covers with one final stretch of his long arms over his head, and he moved to find clothes for the day. Slipping into a pair of jeans, he indulged in another stretch, this time pulling himself up to his full height with a yawn.

Remus was tall for his age, skinny, angled joints and long limbs, awkward at times as he grew into them. His sandy brown hair was long and fairly neat, fringe drifting carelessly over his bright amber eyes every so often, so that he had to push it away with an automatic move of his hand.

And on his right shoulder, still clearly visible despite his faint summer tan, the ragged scar, stretching over the entirety of the shoulder and inching up on to his neck. Even as he pulled the plain t-shirt over his head, the famous scar was still there, sneaking up over the collar into clear view along the right side of his neck. He couldn't hide his past, wore it like a badge right there on his skin for all to see.

The kitchen was full of the sweltering August heat, a weight to the air almost, but his mother still stood next to the hot stove, looking completely unfrazzled and at ease as she moved the pan of eggs to the table. She noticed Remus enter the kitchen, and smiled as she summoned the cereal from the top of the fridge and set it next to the rapidly cooling egg pan.

"Morning, love. Eggs and cereal this morning, and no chocolate syrup in the milk. I swear, you consume more chocolate in one day then all the rest of Europe combined," she said as he took a place at the table. He mock pouted for a second with a wanting glance toward the fridge, but his mum just rolled her eyes and handed him a bowl.

Rosey Lupin was a small, slight woman with a stubborn streak that left most people more willing to deal with a mother bear, and who gave hugs that could crush a grown man. Her son had inherited her sandy brown hair, hers tied back in a loose ponytail rather than the strict one she wore to St. Mungo's, but not her light blue eyes, which she rolled again as Remus tested the dimensions of the kitchen by attempting to lean his chair back far enough to snag the fridge open and retrieve the chocolate syrup he desired.

She took the seat next to him, spooning eggs on to her own plate as she looked him over. Her gaze lingered just a moment too long on the familiar scar, and her hand moved slightly out to touch it before she caught herself. Remus's own hand reached almost unconsciously up to cover the dark pink patch on his neck, suddenly self-conscious.

"Remus, if you want, I can hide it, just for today, for the trip to Diagon," she said, reaching out to touch the hand still holding his spoon, slightly soggy cereal sitting forgotten on it.

He considered it for a moment, and then thought about the crowds in Diagon Alley, how inevitably someone would notice him without seeing the scar, and the questions would come about why he was hiding it. He had been known for so long that the scar was not the only think that made him recognizable any longer.

So Remus just shook his head and returned to his breakfast, wishing desperately for chocolate syrup and an unscarred shoulder as he dug into his cooling eggs. His mother reached across him, taking his other hand away from his shoulder with her patented _Be proud, Remus_ look in her eyes. He gave a small smile and sat up a little straighter in his chair, and she smiled back before casting a look towards the stairs.

"You finish eating, I've got to go wake your father and get your brothers ready before we head to Diagon. I hope I can just get Grace to sleep until we drop her off at your grandparents. Your letter somewhere safe?" Rosey asked, setting her plate to wash itself in the sink, and setting off up the stairs to rouse the remaining Lupin men.

Remus, after checking to see that the letter was still tucked safely into his jeans pocket (crinkled, the wax seal deteriorating a little, but safe), continued eating as he listened to the quite, familiar sounds from upstairs. Soon, his father's soft footsteps could be heard on the stairs, and the accompanying pitter-patter of the twins, Sam and Lawrence. Though Remus was built like his father, his face similar, it was the twins who had inherited the dark blue eyes full of barely restrained laughter and the wavy hair that, while still sandy brown, was the color of wet sand.

"Morning, Remus," said his dad as he took the seat Rosey had vacated when she went upstairs, "You sleep well?" he asked, the first question out of his mouth after every full moon since that warm June night over five years ago. Remus nodded as he helped Sam get his cereal, and Lawrence to avoid overflowing his bowl with milk.

John seemed to nearly inhale his own large bowl of cereal, and was pulling on his dark robes with the purple and gold _Nimbus_ crest embroidered on the left breast as Rosey descended the steps, Grace, two years old, dozing against her mother's chest. Running a large hand across his son's heads, he dropped a kiss on Grace's head, whispering something into the soft brown hair before giving his wife a quick peck on the lips and his wide smile. Remus heard the faint pop of apparition as he went to wash his bowl and plate in the sink.

He took Grace for a few minutes as his brothers finished their breakfast and his mum fussed over the slightly messy waves of their hair. After she had deemed them appropriate for public viewing and they had followed Remus's example, washing and drying their plates, Rosey and the twins led the way into the living room.

The early morning sun shone through the picture window and glinted off the frames along the mantle, pictures of the four Lupin children, John and Rosey on their wedding day, various other members of the family. And tucked along the side, in plain view but certainly not the center of attention, was a framed copy of the article that had made him famous, edges crinkled, paper slightly yellow with age.

Still holding the sleeping Grace to her chest, Rosey cast an _Incendio_ at the fireplace, and grabbed a small pinch of Floo powder from the jar on the table next to the hearth.

"Lawrence, Samuel, I'm going to take your sister through, and then you follow us to Grandma Julie's, okay? Be careful, and remember to enunciate. If I have to chase you to all over kingdom come, I will be very irritated, understood?" she said, and the twins nodded as they gathered up their own powder. "Remus, I'll be back in a few minutes, once I get these guys settled, so just wait and then we'll head on to Diagon Alley."

She disappeared in the green flames a few seconds later, and Sam and Law followed her, one at a time, each entering the fire as the last traces of green faded, and Remus sat patiently waiting. His hand once again rested against his shoulder, long fingers trying to work some of the stiffness out. When his mother reemerged onto the hearth, she gave him a stern look, but came to give it her own little rub before gesturing to the warm fire, stifling in the heavy heat.

Grabbing a pinch of the scratchy powder in his fingers, he tossed it into the fire and stepped in. The warmth of the flames was less uncomfortable now, and he stated his destination with a firm voice, and was whirled away. He clenched his jaw against the slight queasiness that he'd never gotten rid of while traveling by Floo, and tried to enjoy the ride.

His journey ended abruptly at The Leaky Cauldron, and Remus negotiated his long limbs out of the fireplace. His mum followed a few seconds later, and took to brushing off his clothes with vigor. He muttered something about not being six anymore as he blushed, but she continued her work until he was deemed presentable.

The Leaky Cauldron looked as it always did at this time of day, tables crowded with being and beast alike, and the smell was comforting, if the heat was even worse here then it had been at home. For a moment, Remus was hopeful, having made it nearly halfway across the bar without being recognized. But as he moved around a table, the firelight must have caught the few inches of exposed scar in just the right way, and the wizened old wizard at the table reached out for his hand.

"By Merlin's beard, it's Remus Lupin," he said, astonishment at his luck clear in his voice as he pumped Remus's hand. The small exchange would eventually halt his progress for almost ten minutes, but eager as he was to escape, Remus tried to smile through every exchange, always meeting people's eyes, trying not to slouch, even as the heat grew more terrible with each second. His mother always told him he that he should be nice to these people, that they admired him, that they didn't do it to annoy him, but rather because he inspired them.

And just as it was becoming tedious, his shoulder growing stiffer with each eye that fell on it, Tom's voice could be heard over the slight din, "All right, folks, all right. Young Lupin's got to go off and fetch his school stuff, let the young feller breath." Remus's knees nearly gave out in thanks, and he gave a nod of appreciation as his mother began to cut a path through the crowd. The old barkeep gave a wink as he returned to cleaning glasses behind the bar.

When they'd escaped the warm tavern through the brick wall into the fresh air of bustling Diagon Alley, Remus's mum directed him toward Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, while she went to Gringotts to collect the money they would need for the rest of his supplies.

He managed to make it across the cobblestone street and into the clothing shop without being noticed, and stood just inside the door quietly, not sure what to do. He'd only been here once before, with his mother when she was being fitted with a robe for a friend's wedding.

A dark haired witch who Remus identified as Madame Malkin from the picture on the sign hanging over the small desk, bustled up, saying, "Oh, dear, I'm sorry, we're a little shorthanded today. Hold on one moment, Master McNair. Just jump up next to this young fellow here, there you go, let me get a robe. Quite tall, aren't you? Well, no worries, we'll get you all fixed up in a moment. Martha! Could you come finish up Master McNair's hem here?"

Her pretty young assistant, Martha apparently, blond hair tied up in a serious ponytail, passed the older witch as she bustled off to find an appropriate robe for Remus, and took over her work on the other boy's robe. Remus was still reeling from the velocity of her words.

Remus looked over at the boy next to him as he waited. His long black hair was slicked back, and he had features like a hawk, hooked nose and a serious mouth, dark, predatory eyes that were focused on Remus intensely. He tried not to squirm under the hard gaze and thanked God that the boy was on his left side, unable to see the scar.

"Any idea what house you'll be in?" asked the boy suddenly, eyes not leaving Remus, and Remus could see the look of slight recognition sneaking into his gaze, prayed that Madame Malkin hurried. He shook his head, and the boy scoffed and looked almost disappointed in him.

"I'm almost a sure lock for Slytherin," said the boy, glancing down at Martha for a moment and rolling his eyes, "My family's been sorted there for generations. Any idea where you'll end up?" he asked again, and Remus shook his head. The boy seemed to be growing bored with both the conversation and the fitting, but he continued to study Remus with growing intensity, as though he was determined to figure how he knew him.

Just as Remus was sure he would figure it out, Madame Malkin gave his leg a pat, "That's you done, young man," and he jumped down from the stool and away from the other boy, trying not to let him see his neck. His mother was waiting for him by the counter, and he stood next to her as she paid for the package that Madame Malkin handed her. As they left, Remus could hear the other young man speaking to Martha in a harsh tone, telling her to hurry up, as he had other, better things to do.

"I stopped by the apothecary and the parchment shop on my way, as I figured you wouldn't be too particular about that, so we've just got a stop at Flourish and Blotts, and then your wand left. And," she said with a smile, looking down slightly at her son, detecting his uneasy mood, "your father has decided that you should have an owl. We figure it will be easier to keep your siblings from begging for your return home if you can at least write to them." His face lit up at the news, and Rosey was glad to see the troubled look leave her son's amber eyes.

"Well, come on then. Flourish and Blotts first, and then we'll stop by that new shop, Eelyops or something, and see if we can't find you something suitable."

They managed to make it to Flourish and Blotts without being noticed, but several people, including the clerk working behind the counter, recognized him, and Remus, embarrassed, signed several copies of a book called _Child Heroes of The War: Their Lives and Legends_.

After the bookstore, they headed for Eelyops, and as they walked into the darkened main room, Remus saw the bird he wanted almost immediately. A majestic black creature, not small, but not one of the massive hulking ones that lined the bottom shelves, with piercing yellow eyes.

"A beautiful bird, that one. Good eye, young man," said the clerk that came forward, a wild haired, wide-eyed boy who didn't really look all that much older then Remus.

"We'll take him," said Rosey, and while his mother paid and the clerk transferred the owl to an easier to transport cage, Remus waited impatiently for his present to be delivered to his eager hands. After everything was taken care of, the cage was handed to Remus, and as they emerged from the shop back into the street, the owl buried his head under his wing and fell asleep.

"Just your wand left then, and there's only one place for that, of course. Lead on, Remus," she said, and he did, handing the cage to his mother as he moved through the crowds unnoticed, not really realizing the excitement that was building inside of him until he pushed open the door.

The air was thick with dust and silence, and it nearly stole his breath away. The shop was empty, and Remus looked around curiously for a moment before he heard the sound of wheels sliding over the wooden floor, and looked up in time to see a ladder click into place in front him, a small man hopping down and scurrying over to Remus in a mouse-like manner to study him with wide silver eyes.

"Young Mr. Lupin. I suspected it was about time for you to be coming in. Your mother brought you?" he said, just as Rosey walked in and set the cage gently on the floor next to one of the benches along the back wall. "Ahhh, a marvelous wand you have, Rosey, stiff as a sickle, wonderful for Charms, your husband's as well. Well, let us get started, Mr. Lupin. Your wand arm?" Remus lifted up his right arm, and he could feel Mr. Ollivander's unusual eyes on the edge of the scar as he set his tape measure to work.

As it worked, the old man wandered off into the seemingly endless shelves, and the shop fell into silence again except for the slight rustling of the tape measure and Mr. Ollivander's persistent muttering as he looked through the vast collection of wands.

Finally, the tape measure crumpled to the ground at Remus's feet, and moments later, Mr. Ollivander emerged from the shelves, holding a single, incredibly dusty box. Looking distracted, he withdrew the wand and handed it to Remus, muttering, "Thirteen inches, oak, phoenix tail feather."

Remus took the wand, and could feel the warmth spreading up his fingers, spreading up into the scar, and as he raised the wand up to eye level, a burst of silver smoke exploded from the end with a small bang, twisting up and up for a few moments before disappearing slowly into thin air. Rosey smiled behind her son, but Ollivander just reached for the wand, placed it carefully back into the box and turned away from Remus, a strange expression on his face.

"Sir?" asked Remus, nervous about the expression as Ollivander blew the dust off the box and began to carefully wrap it, "Is something wrong?"

Ollivander looked up from his task and considered Remus for a moment, before leaning close, so that only he could hear him. "Remus," he said, and Remus was shocked by the use of his first name, "this wand has been sitting in this shop since my grandfather was a boy. I myself am far from young, so you can only imagine how many years it has been sitting on those shelves waiting for you. But that's not the only thing that makes this wand special, that makes this connection… extraordinary.

"The phoenix that gave the feather for this wand was a brilliant, almost blinding silver. It was not unique, nor is this the only feather it gave, but it cannot be coincidence that this wand, which lay dormant for so long, has finally picked someone with such an," and here, Ollivander reached out a single finger and shocked Remus by laying it against the exposed scar for a moment before pulling it back, "interesting past," he finished, and then returned to his wrapping of the wand as though nothing had happened, as though nothing he had said mattered a bit.

Wordlessly, he handed over the package, and Remus took it, still reeling, and softly bid him good day. His mother was still sitting by the door; Remus's new owl at her feet, and the sight pulled him back to the real world, out of the mystery and myth that Ollivander had woven. Rosey paid and Mr. Ollivander met Remus's eyes for a moment before he followed his mum out of the shop, and then the sunshine nearly blinded him, and the old man disappeared within the shop again.

Hours later, Remus lay in his bed, open book having slipped down onto the floor, on the edge of sleep. The black owl, who'd been named Shaaro, a favorite character from an old book Remus had loved as a child, had been let out, free to glide through the night sky, and his cage sat empty on Remus's desk.

Right before he dropped off, Remus thought of Ollivander's strange eyes, so close and big, wider even then usual, if that was possible, his whispered words, the very things that mystery and destiny seemed to be made off, the power of the wand as it flowed into his arm and shoulder, the energy filling the scar.

In a week, Remus would be headed for Hogwarts, where he hoped some of the answers could be found.


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, quick notice. In this fic, Charlie and Bill Weasley are considerably older then they are in canon (5 years older). I have no 'Remus went back and stuff changed' explanation for this, other than it seemed too easy to just put Charlie in their year and let them be best friends (I also wanted to make Adam, who used to be called Marc), so I made them older. How this will affect the story, I have no idea, but I promise I will figure it all out eventually. These guys are the only one's that I've knowingly made older or younger, everyone else is either non-confirmed or canon correct.**

**Also, yes, Remus met his friends on the train, just like Harry. But I figured that a lot of people meet friends on the train ride for the first time, so I think it's okay. And yes, he confronts his 'enemy' for the first time on the train also. Same thing, it's like the first day of school, except moving and magic.**

**And I'll end another ridiculously long author's note with this: I've simply brought some of my little action figures with me to play in JKR's sandbox. Everything you recognize is hers.**

For anyone outside of the magical world, there was nothing out of the ordinary about the tall, sandy haired boy walking towards Platforms 9 and 10 with his family, except for perhaps the large scar on his neck. But someone who was a part of the wizarding world would have known exactly what Remus's scar meant as he pushed his cart through the barrier on to Platform 9 and 3/4.

He stared up in awe at the huge scarlet engine. It was a breathtaking sight, but he only saw it for a few moments before his mum enveloped him in one of her crushing hugs. Remus could hear the barely restrained tears in her voice as she spoke into his hair.

"You be careful, okay? And behave yourself," she said as sternly as she could manage, gripping his upper arms tightly and holding him at arm's length. "It would be nice if a month or two passed before I started getting letters from your professors, all right? I love you so much," she said before pulling him close again and squeezing him tightly.

"I love you, too," Remus said back, and Rosey hugged him for a few more moments before releasing him to his dad.

"Time to prove yourself, R. J.," said John, extending a hand toward Remus as they both smiled at the affectionate nickname, before pulling him into a tight hug. Remus pulled in a deep breath of his father's comforting scent, an old habit, and felt some of his nervousness filter away as his dad said, "I know you'll make me even prouder of you than I am now."  
Grace, nestled against John's chest, reached out and grabbed a handful of Remus's long hair gently, smiling at him as she tugged lightly. He reached his own hand up to wrap around hers, and her smile grew as the twins wrapped their arms around him, silently, trying to appear brave at Remus's leaving for reasons that only six year olds understood.

"I'll write you two so often you'll get sick of my letters," he said, and Lawrence and Sam nodded against his stomach before releasing him and moving towards Rosey, who silently nodded at the train, still barely holding back tears.

"You'd better go find yourself a compartment, they fill up awfully fast," his dad said, putting an arm around his wife, and Remus nodded shakily and placed Shaaro's cage on his trunk. Pushing it away from his family, he tried not to look back, as seeing the distance between them made the platform seem immeasurably large.

About halfway down the train, he saw two red-haired boys struggling to push a trunk up the stairs as a group of children with the same vivid hair stood watching around their legs. Remus left his own trunk for a moment and moved next to the shorter of the two boys, who smiled in gratitude through his effort. When they'd managed to get the trunk off the stairs and onto the floor of the car, the taller boy, strands of his long red hair drifting out of its ponytail, extended his hand to Remus.

"Thanks for the hand, mate," said the older boy, "I'm Bill Weasley, Head Boy, and this is my younger brother, Charlie. And, well, all of these are ours too," he added, gesturing to the crowd of smaller children, "And you're?" he asked, but before Remus could respond, Bill's eyes found the exposed part of the scar.

"You're Remus Lupin!" said Charlie, who had apparently seen the scar too, and extended his own hand for him to shake. Remus glanced around quickly, trying not to look too nervous at the thought of his name being said so loudly. But nobody else had seemed to notice in the bustle of the platform, and Remus turned back to the other boy with a slight nod.

"This is, uh, I mean, it's," said Charlie, whose red hair was cropped close to his head in comparison with his brother, but he couldn't manage a full sentence. His brother laughed and punched him gently on the shoulder.

"Forgive him, he can be a bit star-struck. You should have seen him when we saw Peta Corner at the Leaky Cauldron one time. Well, if you need anything, Remus, just let me know," said Bill, and grabbed two of the scrambling children around his feet by the shoulders with his long arms, "Fred, George, you watch it. Come on guys, back to mum and dad for you. Charlie and I have to get going."

Remus gave a short wave and pulled his trunk down a few more cars. With great effort, he managed to get it up the short staircase and into an empty compartment, and went back to retrieve Shaaro's cage from the platform. The staircase was blocked by a large trunk though, and Remus, noticing that the owner seemed to be struggling as much as he had, seized the handle closest to him and tugged. When the trunk was sitting in the aisle of the car, Remus expected the owner to emerge immediately, but he had to wait a few seconds before he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

The boy that stepped into the aisle on the other side of the trunk had Shaaro's cage in one hand and the cage of a large eagle owl in the other. His shock yellow hair stuck out in odd directions all over the place, and his blue eyes seemed to flash with a hint of electricity as he smiled. He extended Shaaro's cage over to Remus, who took him with a quiet thanks.

"He looked lonely out on the platform, I thought he might be yours," he said, shrugging slightly, "I'm Adam. Adam Chamberlain."

"I'm Remus Lupin," Remus answered, habitual hesitation evident in his voice, and he nearly cringed as the other boy's eyes widened slightly.

"Nice to meet you," was his only verbal response though, and Remus breathed a sigh of hesitant relief, "Got any room in your compartment? Everywhere else is just about full up."

"Sure. I'm in there by myself right now."

Adam clambered over the trunk without too much trouble, handing the other cage to Remus, who took it and led the way to his compartment. After they'd stowed Adam's trunk, and settled their owls on the floor, they sat across from each other, and stared out the window for a time at the still bustling platform in silence.

"So, you're really him?" asked Adam, after a few minutes, but when Remus looked from the window to the other boy, he blushed and looked away.

"Yeah, I'm really him," said Remus, unconsciously titling his head to more openly reveal the part of his scar that reached up onto his neck. Adam seemed stunned for a moment, but quickly composed himself, and smiled at Remus.

"Cool. My dad always loved to tell me about you, before he died," said Adam, and then again seemed embarrassed at his words, "Sorry, you probably don't want to hear about that kind of stuff the second you get on the train. Mum says I've got a problem when I'm nervous, blurting stuff out and such."

"How'd he die?" asked Remus, and then blushed as well and wondered if he perhaps had the same problem as Adam.

"He was an Auror. Killed in action when I was seven, a few months before Halloween," said Adam, and silence fell over the compartment again. There was no need to ask what Halloween he was referring to, or why that was his reference point.

Remus, searching around for something to say, looked out the still open doors in time to see a girl with vivid pink hair trip over what appeared to be nothing more than her own feet and pitch forward. Remus moved quickly out of his seat and managed to wrap an arm tightly around her waist before she collided with the floor.

When he pulled her up to vertical again, his eyes met her own dark brown ones, and he felt a strange warmth spread through him as she smiled, "Wotcher. Thanks," she said, and he returned the smile.

"Need a seat? We've got plenty of room," he said, and then wondered what had caused him to extend the invitation. It was true that they had plenty of room, and she seemed nice enough, so he blamed it on that and grabbed the girl's trunk when she nodded.

"Thanks again," she said when they'd stashed her trunk and they'd settled into seats, her next to Remus, Adam sitting across from them, still staring out the window, though he'd acknowledged the new girl politely when she'd entered behind Remus, "I'm Nymphadora Tonks, though you should just call me," and she leaned forward and dropped her voice here, as though waiting for someone to jump out and catch her, "Tonks."

Remus raised his eyebrows at her as Adam seemed to come back from wherever he had been after talking about his father to laugh at her, and she shrugged, "I don't like my first name, but my mum doesn't think it's _lady-like _to go by Tonks, so I don't tell her. Or, I try not to. It slips out in arguments sometimes that I can't believe they would give me such a dreadful name. She doesn't seem to appreciate my thoughts on the matter very much. Do you two have names, or are you simply Tall Boy and Blonde Boy?"

"Adam, Adam Chamberlain."  
"Remus Lupin."

Rather than gaping in amazement as he had grown used to people doing, Tonks smirked and then, as though unable to contain it, gave several hearty laughs, "That's amazing. The word started going up and down the platform that you were here, and I've never seen more people boasting that they'd already seen, met, or were sharing a compartment with you. And here I am, little old me, actually sitting in the compartment with the real life Remus Lupin."

Remus wasn't quite sure how to reply to this, but it seemed like a pleasant enough reaction and certainly better than most, so he just smiled and relaxed the tension that had taken a grip on his shoulders at his own utterance of his name. The cabin was silent except for Tonks's laughter for a few moments until Adam spoke up.

"Does she think the pink hair is lady-like? Your mum?" asked Adam, his eyebrows rising to indicate the bright, colorful spikes.

Tonks laughed, "Not lady-like, but she's never really made a fuss over it. Says I was born like that, and as long as I don't change it when we're around Muggles, than I can wear it any way I wish."

"Change it?" asked Remus, and Tonks screwed up her pale, heart-shaped face, the pink spikes turning dark blue and tumbling down her back. She smiled as the two boys looked on in astonishment as her hair returned to its original style and color.

"I'm a Metamorphmagus," she said proudly; smile widening as Adam continued to stare in question, although Remus brightened at the last word.

"A whatsit?"

"It means that she can change her appearance at will, without outside magic. You must be the only registered one in the past fifty years," said Remus, trying not to look too awestruck even as he openly stared, "You'll make people forget all about me when they find out about you," he said, and then ducked his head and unconsciously allowed his hand to stray to the exposed piece of the scar, "I mean, not that they'll be paying all that much attention to me after they actually meet me."

Tonks just laughed harder at his words, "Are you joking? I can make funny faces and turn my hair strange colors. You're _Remus Lupin_, _the_ Remus Lupin, the boy who was barely six when he defeated one of the most feared werewolves in modern history, not to mention a werewolf that was in the inner circle of You-Know-Who. Half the kids in the castle were told about you as a bedtime story."

"So it's true," said a voice from the compartment door, still open even as the train began to move, "The heroic Remus Lupin does indeed grace us with his grand presence. Who'd of thought the Weasleys knew a thing," the voice continued as the occupants of the compartment turned to face the boy.

Remus recognized the boy from Madame Malkin's, with his slick black hair, hooked nose, and those predator eyes that were studying Remus with even more interest than the day back at the clothing shop. Now though, he was flanked by a girl with vivid yellow hair, drawn up into two slightly ridiculous pigtails, and a large boy with thick, tangled hair the color of very dry dirt, so large that he looked almost uncomfortably cramped standing in the doorway.

"Adelbert McNair," he said, extending a hand toward Remus, who took it gingerly, "We met in Madame Malkin's. This is Daisy Williams, and Raymond Leen, old friends of mine," continued McNair, and Remus wondered momentarily how one could address people as 'old friends' when they were eleven, but was distracted when the other boy turned his hawk-like eyes on the other two people in the compartment.

"Hello, Nymphadora. Long time, no see. It's a pity you can never make it to the family reunions, they are such fun," he said, and Tonks clenched her fists, but seemed to curl into herself slightly at the words. Remus reached out a hand, almost without realizing it, and rested it on her shoulder as McNair continued, "And my father worked with yours, Chamberlain, before your father's untimely death. A tragedy that," he said, then turned to Remus with an almost bored expression, "Well, Ray can help you with your trunk if you'd like to move down to my compartment, it's not very far."

The dark-haired boy raised his eyebrows, clearly expecting Remus to answer affirmatively and stand to join him, but Remus just looked at the other two, drawn into their own worlds by McNair's comments, and answered, "Why would I want to do that?"

McNair laughed, "Oh, please, Remus, you can't possibly want to be seen spending time with this type of riff-raff," he seemed poised to continue in this vain, but Remus cut him off.

"I think they're exactly the kind of riff-raff I want to hang out with. Or are we ignoring the fact that I'm just as half-blooded as either of them? Still want to be best pals? Either way, I think it's time for you to go," said Remus, standing and putting himself in between the door and Tonks and Adam.

"I can see you're almost beyond hope, Lupin," said McNair, dropping Remus's first name along with the smile before whirling around to stalk off, the girl and the hulking boy following meekly along, or as meekly as the massive boulder of boy could manage. The compartment remained silent, so quiet that Remus could hear the sound of wheels rolling down the aisle, and a smiling late middle-aged woman approached him with a cart full of treats and candies.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" she asked, but the other two didn't respond at all, self-contained in whatever memories McNair's words had brought up. Remus dug into his pocket for the money he had there, and bought as much as he could carry before thanking the woman and re-entering the compartment. Carefully picking out a Pumpkin Pastie, he sat down next to Tonks and offered it to her with a half-smile.

"Nymphadora is a beautiful name," he said, and she looked up in surprise. "You know what's a stupid name? Adelbert," he continued, and she accepted the treat with a smile.

"Hey," he said to Adam, who looked away from the window and the scenery now rapidly flashing by in time to catch the Cauldron Cake Remus tossed his way. "That guy is a jerk, and he says that stuff to get you down. Don't let him win," Remus said, and tried not to feel ridiculous, preaching to these people with problems he clearly didn't understand. But Adam reached across to grab another Cauldron Cake and Tonks was already struggling with the wrapper of her Pumpkin Pastie.

The rest of the trip passed undisturbed, and just as they were reaching the bottom of the pile of treats, a deep voice came over an unseen intercom to let them know that they were ten minutes from their destination, and that there was no need to bring their trunks off with them, as they would be taken up to the dormitory at a separate time.

Tonks ducked into the compartment across the aisle, which had emptied out at some point, to change, while the boys pulled on their own things in their original compartment. She had just returned when the train slowed to a stop, and they began trying to make their way through the crowded hallway and out on to the platform.

When they finally managed it, the group skirted around a couple of older Hufflepuffs who seemed about to come to blows in their argument, heading towards a high lantern and a voice that was calling out, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Reaching the faint circle of light given off by the lantern held high above the heads of the students, Remus found himself looking at the largest man he had ever seen.

His massive head was covered in thick black hair and a matching beard, but the dark eyes were jewel-like, and Remus felt comfortable around the large man almost instantly. Once the crowd of nervous looking first years had gathered around him, the big man lowered the lantern so it better illuminated them, and spoke in a deep, booming voice.

"This all of ya', than?" a few timid nods, "Well, I'm Rubeus Hagrid, but you all should just call me Hagrid, like everybody else, an' I'm the Keeper of Keys and Grounds here at Hogwarts, but tonight it's me job to get you all up to the castle fer the sortin' and such in one piece. All righ', follow me," he said, raising the lantern again to count heads and then setting off for a break in the trees. The first years followed nervously.

The sky had darkened to a deep purple, and as hard as Remus tried to concentrate on the uneven, slippery ground of the thin, steep path, visibility was almost zero. Generally, the only thing Remus could see in the darkness was Adam's electric blonde and Tonks's pink hair. Several times, Tonks slipped on the precarious footing and Remus had to catch her. The last time she slipped, it nearly sent them both crashing into the trees that lined the path, and she was still apologizing profusely, despite Remus telling her it was no big deal, when the ground finally leveled off and they found themselves standing next to a small fleet of boats.

"No more'n four to a boat!" shouted Hagrid, and Remus, Adam and Tonks clambered into one of the boats, joined by a boy with floppy brown hair and sad gray eyes who introduced himself as Lewis Lister. When all the first years had settled into their boats, Hagrid climbed into his own boat, and set the small fleet off with a shout of "Go!"

As the boats drifted slightly left, they finally broke around the thickest part of the trees, and a collective gasp went up from the occupants of the boats. Before them, candle-lit windows illuminating the outlines of its many towers against the inky, star-filled sky, grander than anything they'd imagined it as, stood Hogwarts castle.


	5. Chapter 5

**I know that in canon, Tonks is a Hufflepuff. And believe me, I was tempted to put her in there (as I have absolutely nothing against Hufflepuffs, being a Gryffinpuff myself), but I honestly was not sure how to go about a story with best friends in two different houses, and I would be creating a lot of the details about Hufflepuff on my own. I don't think I have the skill or the patience to deal with that set up. But I did have the hat hesitate a bit in calling her house, which I think sets up some awesome character stuff that could happen later. If you're not happy with that explanation, just think of it as one more thing that was changed by Remus going back.**

**Also, I forgot to mention last chapter that I personally have nothing against the name Adelbert, but it seemed like an appropriately out-dated and uncommon name for a pureblood Slytherin. I've only ever heard of one Adelbert, and he's never going to read this story on account of being a dead Civil War officer from Maine.**

**Teal deer of that, I have nothing personal against Hufflepuffs or Adelberts, but Tonks is a Gryffindor and McNair is a jerk.**

The remainder of the ride across the lake was spent in relative silence while the collection of first years stared in awe at the immense castle. They craned their necks to look up as they got closer and closer, and sailed across its huge, blurred reflection in the lake, entering a tunnel through a curtain of ivy, where the boats came to a slow stop.

Clambering out of the small crafts, the first years once again gathered around Hagrid, who took a quick headcount, checked the boats for anything left behind, and set off up another path. The students followed silently, and they'd barely been walking for two minutes when the path ended in the huge wooden doors that marked the entrance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

They waited, still silent, as Hagrid raised one huge fist and gave two booming knocks against the wood. Moments later, the doors swung open to reveal a stern looking woman in dark robes the color of red wine, and Remus fought the urge to study his shoes as her fierce gaze swept the crowd of first years.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid, sweeping a giant hand around the back of the group to herd them into the light of the hall.

"Thank you, Hagrid, I'll take them from here," she said, though Remus, and most of the other first years it seemed, barely heard her as they stared up in awe at the giant hall they now stood in, with grand doors much like they had just entered across from them and a huge sweeping marble staircase to their right.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall, managing to tear the first years' attention away from the sight of the hall with the stern tone, "The start-of-term banquet will begin soon, with your Sorting. The Sorting is very important, because during your time at Hogwarts, your house will be like your family. You will have classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitories, and spend time in your house common rooms. And even after you leave the school, your house loyalties will stay with you.

"The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has it's own illustrious history and has produced great wizards and witches. While at Hogwarts, your good deeds and triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule breaking will lose you points. At the end-of-the-year feast, the house with the most points will be awarded the House Cup.

"The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly. Until then, please wait in the room off of this hall for me to return and get you. Please wait quietly," she added, with another intense gaze over the group before directing them towards the room where they were supposed to wait and leaving.

Remus looked over at Adam, who was running a hand quickly through his mass of blond spikes, and the boy standing next to Adam, with a brown crew cut and dark green eyes, leaned around Adam, smiled nervously and addressed Remus.

"I'm Chris Adams. Know anything about this Sorting Ceremony?"

"You try on an old hat," said Adam, introducing himself to the other boy as well.

Chris laughed in relief, "That's it? I've had people trying to convince me all day that we'd have to wrestle a troll." Professor McGonagall entered the room as the boy finished his sentence.

"Form an orderly, single-file line and follow me," she said, and the first years did as they were told with only minimal shoving and jostling. Tonks was in front of him, while Adam and Lewis were behind him as they followed Professor McGonagall silently.

The first thing Remus noticed about the Great Hall when he entered it was the vast, starry sky that appeared above his head as he passed through the door. His parents had told him about the enchanted ceiling, but nothing could quite prepare you for the real thing. The line was led between four long tables, two on either side, at which the older students were seated and above which floated thousands of enchanted candles.

The line halted in front of a four-legged stool in front of the High Table, on which sat an extremely dirty, frayed wizard's hat. Remus watched in awe as the hall quieted, a long rip at the brim opened, and the hat began to _sing_.

_Though many moons have passed,_

_Since the founders of this school first set out,_

_Upon their journey to educate young magic folks,_

_There's still plenty of them left in me,_

_So please try me on for size_

_And I'll let you know your rightful place_

_Perhaps you belong in Gryffindor,_

_The house the noble call their own_

_The brave will certainly find it their home_

_Or perhaps it's Hufflepuff for you_

_With your loyal heart_

_Unafraid of toil_

_Maybe in Ravenclaw is where you should dwell_

_Open a book for a spell_

_For wit and learning are your companions there_

_Or Slytherin is your home_

_Your cunning and ambition will help_

_You'll fit right in_

_So go ahead, put me on and open up that mind of yours_

_As the Sorting Hat, it's my job to tell you where to go!_

The hall burst into wild applause, and the hat became still again after giving a short bow to each of the tables. Professor McGonagall stepped up next to the stool and opened a long scroll.

"When I say your name, please come forward and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said, "Abbey, Kathleen!"

A short girl with long red hair made her way forward and took her place on the stool. The hall waited in dead silence for a few moments before the rip along the brim opened and the hat's voice filled the hall again.

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped, and Kathleen went over to take a seat as Professor McGonagall peered down at her list again.

"Adams, Christopher!"

The boy who'd introduced himself to Remus and Adam stepped out of his place in the line in front of Tonks and took a seat on the stool. It took longer for the hat to decide with Chris, but thirty seconds after he'd sat down, it shouted again.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

This time, the table on the right cheered as Chris made his way over.

"Alroth, Doug!" A smiling, thin boy with dark skin and long black hair tied back in a short ponytail came forward, and joined Chris at the Hufflepuff table.

"Bramble, Moret!" became a Slytherin almost as quickly as the hat touched her head, and Remus's eyes were drawn towards the second table from the right. The applause there was reserved and formal, and seemed out of place following the eruptions of the Hufflepuff table at the announcement of Chris and Doug's house. Even the Ravenclaws, the house of normally reserved intellectuals, had managed a few war whoops for Kathleen, if the image had looked strange as the non-whoopers rose to shake Kathleen's hand as she found her place. But Moret seemed perfectly happy with the minor applause. Remus looked away from the table, but not before he saw the ghost hanging above it, his long robes covered in something silver and ominous.

"Brees, Winfield!"

A bored looking boy, whose long, un-kept brown hair fell carelessly across his light eyes, slouched up to the stool and took his place under the hat. For almost two whole minutes, he sat there, still slouched, arms crossed, head titled forward slightly, totally relaxed where everyone else seemed more nervous then they'd been in their entire lives. Remus thought he looked almost like a statue, unmoving, handsome and solid in his unshakableness in the dead silence of the hall. A moment later though, the illusion was broken as the rip along the hat's edge opened again.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The table on the far left burst into thunderous applause, and the celebration taking place at the Gryffindor table put that of all the others to shame as various catcalls and war whoops accompanied Winfield's approach to the table. He flashed a smile at the people slapping his back, and then returned to looking rather disinterested in everything that was going on.

"Chamberlain, Adam!"

Remus heard the boy behind him take a deep breath as he stepped out of line and made the short walk up toward the stool; feeling himself brace unconsciously for the result, wondering where Adam, who he already considered a friend, would end up. For fifteen seconds, Remus clenched his fists in the silence of the hall before the rip opened wide.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The wild cheering filled the hall again, and Adam made his way over to the table quickly, smiling wide, parts of his hair oddly flattened from the hat, but already springing back into place.

The Sorting had slowed a little, Winfield and another boy, "Bartlett, Leo," having taken almost five minutes between them before being sorted to their respective houses, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, but it picked up again as "Eugene, Mary," and "Folds, Sylvia" followed Winfield and Adam to Gryffindor and "Gomes, Yvette," became a Ravenclaw. The hat took its time with some of the students, but others had barely sat down before they were off to their tables amid applause from the others already seated. Leen, the huge boy who had followed McNair on the train, quickly went to Slytherin.

The ceremony continued, and it seemed that McGonagall had reached "Lister, Lewis," in no time at all. Remus turned to look at the boy behind him, an intense feeling of nerves growing heavy in his stomach. But Lewis just stared intently at Professor McGonagall, as though he hadn't heard her.

"Hey, isn't that you?" asked Remus, inclining his head towards the hat. The other boy smiled gratefully and stepped out of line. Over two minutes later, he joined the Gryffindor table next to Winfield.

Tonks moved back towards Remus a little as he heard it: "Lupin, Remus." And the conversations that had been peppering the hall as they waited for the next name to be called ceased immediately as he stepped out of the line and everyone craned to get a better look at him. Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head, and his view of the hall was replaced with the soft blackness of the interior.

"Remus Lupin," said a tiny voice in his ear, "Well, well, I think it's been quite a while since I've had such a highly anticipated Sorting. I myself am a little giddy to meet you, and I've been around for quite a long time. I've seen just about everything there is, wouldn't you agree? Let's have a look inside this head of yours than, shall we? Everyone out there is wishing you end up in his or her own house, but almost all of them have already sorted you inside their heads, don't you think? And personally, I think your head and heart agree with your past. That means there's just the one place for you," said the hat, and then the voice grew to address the entire hall.

"GRYFFINDOR!" screamed the hat, and Remus thought the whoops that went up from the Gryffindor table were certainly sufficient to blow out a person's eardrums. Most of the older students, the fifth, sixth and seventh years, were on their feet, and anonymous hands reached out to shake his. One older student, with stiffly gelled black spikes and huge green eyes, made a move to climb on to the table, but his actions were stopped with one particularly stern glance from McGonagall, who seemed barely able to contain her own happiness as he winked at her and returned to his seat. Remus dropped into the seat next to Adam with a smile, which he returned.

The Sorting was much more enjoyable without the knot of nervousness in his gut, and Remus settled down to watch. McNair followed Leen to the Slytherin table even quicker than Moret had been sorted, and he took his seat next to the hulking boy with a smirk.

When Tonks was called, she moved forward slowly, scowling at the unapologetic use of her first name, obviously trying to hide her clumsiness. She sat on the stool for almost as long as Lewis had, and when the hat finally shouted out her house, Remus could almost hear just the slightest hint of something like hesitation in its voice.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Remus cheered along with the rest of the table, and Tonks managed to make it almost all the way to the seat on Remus's left without tripping, but at the last second, her own feet seemed to betray her. Remus and Adam both reached out an arm, and managed to provide sufficient leverage and support for her to catch herself and sit down.

"I don't think anyone saw. Your secret's safe with us," said Adam, smiling at Tonks as "Turpin, Ralston," became a Ravenclaw.

Tonks rolled her eyes, "I don't think it'll be a secret for very long, unless everyone at this school is blind and an idiot."

After Ralston, there were only three people left, and after "Victor, Jeremiah," a black boy with long dreadlocks who rivaled Leen in size had been sorted into Gryffindor, and "Warren, Claire," and "Zabbnit, Evan," took their places at the Hufflepuff table, the Sorting Ceremony was over. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and disappeared through a side door behind the High Table as a tall man with a long silver beard and hair to match stood from the center of the table: Albus Dumbledore, headmaster.

"Welcome, everyone, to another wonderful year at Hogwarts!" he said, smiling out over the gathered students, "Now, I'll spare the announcements until after dinner, as I'm sure you are all quite famished. Bon appetite!"

Remus looked away from Dumbledore at the golden dishes on the table, and nearly fell out of his chair in surprise. Even for those who came from wizarding families, the sudden appearance of the massive amount of food that now covered the table was quite a shock the first time you saw it. Recovering quickly, Remus filled the plate in front of him with as much as it would hold and dug in.

"Thank you," said Lewis, from across the table, in a voice so quiet that Remus was surprised he could hear him at all.

"No problem. Everybody zones out every once and a while, right?" he said, but Lewis just half-smiled and shook his head.

"Oh, I wasn't, uh, zoning out. There were, well, there were some serious complications when I was born, and my ears paid the price. At times, I lose as much as seventy percent of my hearing. I was hoping that I could just read McGonagall's lips, but I was too far away," he explained, still talking very quietly, almost whispering.

"Oh. That doesn't sound fun," Remus said, not sure how to respond.

"It's okay. It only happens every once and awhile. I was hoping it wouldn't happen tonight, but it's just my luck," he said, and looked so sad that Remus wished he were better at knowing what to say.

"Cheer up, young fellow!" said a ghost in a ruff and tights who'd floated over towards the group of first years, "I'm sure all you new Gryffindors are ready to help us win the House Cup this year! Slytherin has won two years in a row now, and the Bloody Baron is getting unbearable. He's the Slytherin house ghost." He placed a hand on Lewis's shoulder, and Lewis shivered.

"And you're our house ghost?" asked Sylvia, looking the ghost over.

"Yes, I am. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington," he seemed about to continue, but the boy with the huge green eyes who'd tried to climb on the table earlier cut him off.

"Ah, Nick, do we have to go through this every year? Kiddies," said the boy, leaning over towards the first years, "listen to Uncle Ben. Nobody calls him that. Everybody calls him," and here he paused to wink cheekily at Nick, who seemed resigned to his fate at this point, "Nearly Headless Nick," he said, delivering the last three words with a gusto you normally saw only in a theater, and he'd raised his voice so that the whole table could hear him, and they all gave a cheer, while Nick sighed and floated off to find better company before any of the first years could ask how someone could be 'nearly headless.' They weren't sure if they were glad of this or not.

Remus was beginning to feel drowsy as the desserts appeared, and his gaze drifted from the conversations of his fellow students up to the High Table. He was surprised to find someone staring back, a pale man with long greasy hair and eyes that looked like tunnels from this distance. The man was glaring at Remus intensely, and he certainly didn't look happy to see him.

Both the teacher and Remus were distracted by Dumbledore standing, and as the professor's gaze left him, Remus tried to shrug off the bad feeling about the man that had settled in between his shoulder blades. The headmaster swept his gaze over the hall with a smile before he began to speak, and the chatter and clattering of silverware that had filled the hall died almost immediately at his first word.

"Again, it is my pleasure to welcome all of you to another new year at Hogwarts! Just a few start of term notices before we turn in now that we are all properly stuffed.

"First years should note that the Forbidden Forest is strictly off limits. No student should enter the Forest without express permission and staff supervision. Magic should only be performed in the corridors in case of emergencies, and no, being late to class is not an emergency requiring you to hex those classmates you may or may not blame for your tardiness," he said, a twinkle in his eyes as he scanned the tables, "Quidditch trials will be held in two weeks time, and those wishing to try out for their House Teams should contact their team's captain or Madame Hooch as soon as possible. And now, I believe it's time for us all to head to bed. First years, if you would please find a prefect from your house to show you the way."

Remus, Adam and Tonks moved with the rest of the group towards the boy who'd introduced them to Nearly Headless Nick. Some of the first years looked skeptical that the boy who'd less then an hour earlier tried to climb on to the table at Remus's sorting could be a prefect, but the shiny silver badge was indeed pinned to his chest and he waited patiently for the group to gather around him.

"This all of you? All right then, I'm Ben Boyce, but you can call me Uncle Ben, because that's what everybody calls me. Or you can call me Overlord Ben, which nobody calls me, but I've been trying to get that started for four years now, and maybe this is finally the year it catches on. I'm the fifth year Gryffindor prefect, but only because Charlie Weasley's an early, so you guys don't have to worry about cramping my style by saying hello to me in the corridors or asking for help around the Common Room, 'cause Charlie's stolen all the mojo from the guys in our year by basically being a God, with a capital G. And I would hate him for it, but he's one stand up chap, so don't any of you go around saying Uncle Ben spoke ill of Charlie, 'cause he's one of my best mates. All right then, shall we go?" he said, and the first years were too bowled over by the rapid-fire words to do anything but nod. They followed him through the crowd leaving the Great Hall, and watched in slight amazement as it seemed every hand attached to someone wearing the red and gold of Gryffindor reached out to slap his hand as he passed. It seemed that Ben had quite a bit of his own 'mojo'.

"Now, I'll warn you guys right now, you are not going to be able to remember all these passageways and corridors immediately, but with time, it'll be like the back of your hand. So seriously, feel free to ask for help from anyone. Well, try and find me or somebody else from Gryffindor, but the Hufflepuffs are always pretty helpful. The Hufflepuffs are good people, right Gary?" he said, his voice rising at the last sentence to call out to another prefect leading the Hufflepuff first years.

"Hell yeah, we are," said Gary, nodding his head at Ben, and Ben grinned in return and led them up another staircase. Remus was already beginning to lose track, and the slight haze created from good food and sleepiness certainly wasn't making it any easier.

They'd been walking for nearly ten minutes when a man with long brown hair in need of a wash wearing patched robes rushed past them going the opposite direction, and for an instant, Remus's amber eyes met the man's pale blue ones. At the same time, a crippling pain ripped through his scar and he stumbled slightly as it shot around the rest of his body before settling into a dull ache in his shoulder and neck. Once the majority of the pain had passed, he realized that Ben was introducing the man who was now turning the corner out of sight.

"And that is our favorite, and only," he leaned forward on the last two words to whisper them as though they were some great secret, with a wink at the first years, "caretaker, Mr. Linkin."

"What happened, mate?" asked Adam as they moved on, still following Ben at a rapid pace.

Not sure what to say, Remus went with a half-truth, "I tripped."

"That's my job," said Tonks, and Remus's laughing distracted him sufficiently to prevent him from rubbing at the scar, which still tingled and occasionally panged with ache. Finally, they seemed to have reached their destination, a portrait of a rather large woman in a pink dress.

"All right, kiddies, watch your Uncle Ben closely now, and welcome to the best little sliver of paradise you're likely to discover in this dark, dark world," he said, and even the Fat Lady rolled her eyes as he winked at her and said, "Corothie."

She swung forward to admit them, and the first years flowed into the warm, round room draped in scarlet and gold behind Ben and stared around in wonder. After he'd preformed a quick head count to insure they hadn't lost anyone on the way up, Ben stepped to the front of the group again.

"This is your common room. I'd give you the full tour, but I'm absolutely knackered and you can basically see it all from here, so I'll give you the short version. It's round, it's cozy, and us Gryffindors spend most of our free time and celebrate our many and varied victories here. Girl's dormitories are that way, and the boys are the other way. Night to all!" he said, and then the boys followed him towards their dorms.

Remus and Adam bid Tonks good night and followed the prefect. They reached the door marked _First Years_ quickly, thankfully, as the new first years appeared on their last legs. Ben himself seemed to be losing a little bit of his own slightly manic energy, and bid them good night again, continuing the climb to his own dormitory.

Too tired to talk much, little was said by the five new Gryffindor boys, besides introduction, before they fell into their beds, barely noticing that their trunks were already at the feet of the four-posters.

Something was wrong within the familiar dream. He was still caught in the hatred behind the werewolf's eyes, but now they were the black tunnel-like ones of the teacher from the feast, and the normally silent landscape of the nightmare was punctuated by a single word, whispered in an unfamiliar voice: _Destiny_.

Remus awoke in a cold sweat, his eyes immediately falling on the waning moon outside. Never before had the dream come on a night devoid of the full moon. And there was that word again: _destiny_. He fell back asleep rather quickly, and barely remembered anything strange about the dream except for the unusual timing of it.

But apparently, Hogwarts had just as many questions to offer as answers.

**Another author's note, I know how excited you are. I know the hat's lyrics are fairly dreadful, but I felt it was important to have them his first year. You probably won't have to deal with them any more after this.**

**And what do you think of the original characters in the tiny little snippet you've seen of some of them? Anyone who needs to be killed off immediately, or someone you want to see more of? Feel free to let me know in a review, though I make no promises. And speaking of reviews… you should leave one. They're good karma.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I've been trying to strike a good balance in this story between exposition and letting the actual series knowledge suffice. Basically, anything new (characters, things, places) will be described well, along with things that I think it's important we see Remus's point of view on, but anything that we know well, I'm letting you fill in the blanks. If you'd like to see more exposition, just leave me a review or message me, and I'll see what I can do. Until then, enjoy!**

Even if you've been dealing with celebrity for what seems like your entire life, it can still be a shock to have what seems like every eye you pass focused on you. The whispering conversations and long stares were only multiplied once Remus actually started classes, and Professor Flitwick, the diminutive Charms professor, had almost toppled off the pile of books he stood on when he'd first read Remus's name from the roll call. And with Tonks and her various and almost always bright hair colors constantly by his side, the stares only increased.

The first few days of classes were full and hectic, and Remus enjoyed them immensely, though by the time Thursday rolled around it felt as though he and the rest of the first years were buried in homework which seemed to consist mostly of writing essays several feet in length based on the pages and pages of notes they had taken in their classes so far. Thursday afternoon, after spending almost an hour in the damp, hot greenhouse with Professor Sprout, the first year Gryffindors joined the Hufflepuffs for their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

As Remus, Adam and Tonks took seats in the second row of desks next to Winfield, who had insisted they call him Win from breakfast their first day, and Jeremiah, the professor for the class leaned casually on his desk at the front of the room, smiling and nodding at the students that entered. When the bell rang, he stood up and smiled at the class as a whole.

"All right, why don't we get started. I'm Professor Wyllys Armistead, and this is your first year Defense Against the Dark Arts class." Professor Armistead was a tall, broad man who'd been teaching for two years now, only six years removed from his own graduation from Hogwarts. A former Hufflepuff, he wore his long, dark brown hair in a short ponytail at the base of his head. His most distinguishing feature was usually agreed upon as a tie between his sparkling sliver eyes, the general consensus among the older girls, and the large fang he wore dangling from his left ear, the general consensus of everybody else.

"So, let's set up some basic stuff. Now, I'm not even twenty-five yet, and I always find that I feel kind of silly addressing students as Ms. and Mr. when I'm still so young and youthfully handsome," he paused here to allow the laughter, "so, if it's all right with this class, I'd prefer to just call you by your first names. Is that okay?" he said, and the class nodded. "Good. I knew I could count on my Hufflepuffs and our friends the Gryffindors not to pitch a hissy fit about it. It's usually just the Slytherins that get picky about it, but don't tell them I said that."

The class laughed, and Professor Armistead picked up a book off his desk, holding it up for all of them to see. The class collectively reached for the similar book that each of them possessed, but he just shook his head and they paused in their motion as he laughed.

"I know that you all have spent the first three days of your Hogwarts careers taking notes and studying your books with great intensity, and I'm not going to promise that you won't spend some time in my class doing those exact same things, because you will, but I know also that I never was a great fan of those things when I was a student, so today, I thought we'd have a practical demonstration, and maybe get started on the notes and such next Monday. How does that sound?"

The class clapped enthusiastically, and Armistead smiled again, "Okay, I just need to go grab a couple of my friends out of the corridor, while you guys move the desks off to the side so they can have a proper stage. Sound good?" he asked, and the class rose quickly to start their part of the task while he laughed and exited the room, returning moments later with Ben Boyce and the Hufflepuff Prefect Ben had called Gary their first night after the Sorting.

"Well, Gryffindors, you already know 'Uncle' Ben Boyce, and Hufflepuffs, you've been introduced to Gary Sharpeton, but I suppose proper introductions have just been made to the opposite houses, so let's get started. First years, I'd take a step or two out of the way," the class immediately backed away as the two Prefects smiled and high-fived. "Now, these two won't be using any of the dark spells you'll be learning about in this class eventually, but being able to duel someone not using the Dark Arts is just as important as being able to duel someone that is."

"All right, Ben, Gary, let's do this properly," Armistead said, and the two fifth years bowed to each other before holding their wands out in front of them and waiting for Armistead, who'd moved over toward the group of first years, to start them, "How about we make this interesting? Best two out of three, winner gets five points for their house. Ready? Begin!"

"_Expelliarmus!_" shouted Ben, but Gary responded quickly with his own call of "_Protego!_" and the red light bounced harmlessly away from the other boy. Gary followed up with "_Rictusempra!_" but Ben created his own shield and the duel continued.

"Get him, Uncle Ben!" called Jeremiah, and Ben laughed through his concentration as he cast another spell.

"You got him already, Gary!" shouted Chris in response, and both the prefects laughed as they cast counteracting spells that produced a brilliant explosion of blue light that the first years _ooohed_ and _aahhhed_ over appropriately. Eventually though, Gary managed to slip a spell past Ben's _Protego_, and caught the other boy's wand with a shout of triumph. The Hufflepuffs cheered while the Gryffindors groaned, but Ben just retrieved his wand from Gary and winked at the first years, as though it were all part of some big plan he had.

And indeed, as soon as Armistead started the second duel, it seemed as though the first duel had just been to lull Gary into a false sense of security. Ben's first spell set him on his heels, and it was only a manner of time before the Gryffindor prefect's favorite spell, _Rotoisi_, hit Gary's hand before he could manage the Shield Charm and sent his wand spinning towards Ben's outstretched hand.

Catching it with ease and a smile on his face, Ben turned to the awestruck Gryffindors and said simply, "Bang." They let out wild cheers, and even the Hufflepuffs couldn't resist joining in as Gary laughed uproariously while Ben tossed him his wand back.

Just as Professor Armistead was about to begin the third and final duel, the fighters poised, the first years eager, the bell rang and a groan of disappointment went up from both sides. Armistead just smiled and stepped forward, "Well, looks like we have no winner. I'm left with no choice but to award both houses 5 points for the brilliant performances of their duelists. Nice job, Ben, Gary. And now, homework. Read the first four pages of Chapter One in your books and be ready to discuss Monday. Class dismissed!" he shouted, over the cheers that the points had garnered, and the groans that met the homework assignment.

Remus exited the room with Adam and Tonks as an excited crowd surrounded Ben and Gary, who seemed to enjoy the attention immensely. The first years were headed to lunch when Remus noticed that he must have left his Defense book on the desk, and turned to go back, telling the other two to go ahead to lunch and save him a seat. When he returned to the classroom, Professor Armistead was wandering among the desks and picked up Remus's book with a smile.

"Your homework might have been a little difficult without this," he said, handing the book to Remus, "I can't say I blame you for being a little scatter-brained. Merlin knows that there's nothing quite so hectic as a student's first few days at Hogwarts. And it can't have been made any easier by that," he said, nodding at Remus's scar, and Remus reached up to touch it softly.

"Well, as long as you don't have an official fan club yet, I think you'll be all right. But if you do ever need somewhere to hide from the attention, my door's always open."

"There are people with official fan clubs?" Remus asked, eyes wide.

"Not that I know of, but I wouldn't be surprised if there were unofficial ones under the noses of the professors," said Armistead, and both of them laughed, Remus slightly nervously.

"Well, I'm sure you're wanting to get off to lunch, and I've got a meeting with a couple of seventh year Ravenclaws who are already worried about their NEWTs," he said, and Remus exited the room with a wave.

"That was awesome!" said Adam when Remus sat down next to him at lunch, "I wish every teacher had started out class that way. Much better than taking all those notes. I think I'm developing carpal tunnel," he said, shaking out his right wrist.

"McGonagall did turn her desk into a cow," said Tonks, "and Sprout had us repotting those," she paused to think for a moment, "whatever you call them almost as soon as we walked in the door."

"I have to agree with Adam, a duel is a little more interesting than taking endless notes that I can barely understand, despite the fact that I was there," said Remus, grabbing a roll and the butter knife from Adam.

"Says the boy who is already done with all four of the reading assignments we've already gotten," said Tonks, rolling her eyes at Remus.

"Not my fault I like reading."

"No, I think it's almost entirely your fault."

"There is one thing we can agree on."

"What?" asked Remus and Tonks, both turning to look at Adam.

"That was awesome!"

Friday morning, the three of them managed to make it down to breakfast in less then 15 minutes for the first time, but their joy was short-lived as Remus glanced at their schedule and groaned.

"What?" asked Adam, who was carefully creating a small pyramid of bacon on his plate.

"Potions with the Slytherins first thing in the morning," he said, hurrying to get some bacon from the tray nearest them before Adam took it all.

"At least we've got this afternoon off," said Tonks, rolling her eyes at the boys' eating habits and taking some toast for herself.

"We might need it to recover emotionally," said Jeremiah as he sat down across from them with Win.

"Or physically," Win said, and the rest of them laughed.

"If we weren't with the Slytherins, I think I'd be able to almost grin and bear it. But I guess we'll get a chance to see if he really favors them just as much as everyone says," said Tonks, and Charlie and Ben, sitting a few seats down from the group at the still sparsely populated table, laughed.

"Oh, he does. In fact, he probably favors them twice as much as we say, but there aren't words in the human language to actually describe it," said Charlie, and Ben clapped him on the shoulder.

"He even hates Charlie, and how is it possible to hate Charlie? It isn't. It is not possible to hate Charlie Weasley; no matter how hard you try. But that man manages it, makes it look easy in fact."

"Sounds promising," said Remus.

When the bell finally rang, the first year Gryffindors went as a group towards the dungeon classroom where Potions was held. Entering the dank room, they filtered into the back while the Slytherins took the seats near the front, leaving almost an entire row between the two houses. McNair looked back and shot them a sneer as a dark figure strode in, his black robes billowing dramatically behind him: Severus Snape.

Win and several others rolled their eyes at the theatrics, but Remus unconsciously slunk down in his seat as the professor rounded on the class and began to take roll in a voice so icy the temperature in the already chilly room actually dropped a few degrees. A sneer much more venomous than anything Remus had ever seen on McNair's face curled the lips of the Potions Professor after he'd read "Lister, Lewis."

"Lupin, Remus. Our own local celebrity, the acclaimed werewolf fighter, has been kind enough to bring his presence down to my humble abode. To what, do tell, do I owe the honor?" he asked, glaring back at Remus in the same manner he had the night of the Sorting.

Remus looked at the other Gryffindors for help, but they all seemed just as puzzled as he did, so he turned back to Snape and answered the best he could, "Well, your class was next on my schedule, sir."

Win smiled and actually let out a single bark of laughter while several other Gryffindors snickered into their hands. All the Slytherins looked scandalized, and what little color was in Snape's face drained out of it completely, "Three points from each Mr. Lupin and Mr. Brees for their blatant disrespect for a professor. Your instructions are on the board, and can also be found on page 11 of _Magical Drafts and Potions_. All the ingredients you need can be found in the back cupboard. Get to work!"

The students quietly went to work on the simple potion to cure boils. Remus sat stunned for a second, before Adam nudged his shoulder and indicated his open book, and Remus glanced over the ingredients and went to get what they needed. Win was standing back by the cupboard and smiled at Remus as they searched for snake fangs.

"This could be an interesting year," he said, and Remus laughed.

"To make a huge understatement," Remus agreed, and Win gave another huge laugh. Snape glared at them, but didn't say anything.

Adam left most of the chopping and grinding to Remus, and Remus used the opportunity to take out some of his frustration at his singling out. As he added the carefully measured, finely crushed snake fangs to his cauldron, Snape came up behind him and scoffed. Remus wasn't exactly sure how you could add things to a cauldron incorrectly, but apparently he was he could.

Forty minutes later, the bell rang, mercifully releasing them, and the Gryffindors rushed to deposit their flasks on the desks and to leave the dungeon, but they were stopped by Snape's cold voice, "Whose is this?" he asked, holding up a flask with the names clearly printed on the side facing away from him.

"It's ours," said Jeremiah, indicating himself and Win. Snape looked suspicious for a second, but seeing that none of the Slytherins had handed in their potions yet, was forced to accept it.

"It's adequate," he said, and the Gryffindors all looked at Jeremiah and Win in stunned silence. Win just smiled and rolled his eyes before walking away, tugging his friend along behind him.

"Wait, Win, I want to soak in the moment," he said, but Win just kept tugging.

"Hurry up, before we learn that adequate means that he's going to take points off us."

As soon as they cleared the staircase into the Great Hall, Tonks changed her hair from the tame blonde curls back to her familiar pink spikes and turned on the two boys, "Well, he hates you," she said, and pointed to Remus, "A lot."

"Yes, he does, and I honestly have no idea why. He was staring daggers at me at the feast, but I thought maybe I misinterpreted it. I guess I didn't," Remus said, and Tonks laughed.

"No, I guess you didn't."

"It's totally unfair," said Adam, "What else were you supposed to say? 'Well sir, I heard just how fun your class was, so I thought I'd head down to see what all the fuss was about'?" The first years heard the laugh from across the hall, and saw Ben, Gary and Charlie walking towards them across the hall with a Gryffindor girl they didn't recognize.

"How many points did he get from you?" Ben asked.

"Six, three from Remus and three from Win. Remus said something, Win laughed, and he called it disrespectful."

"Oh, that's not so bad. He's always taking points off me. I must have some kind of record by now," said Ben, and Gary added on.

"My second year, he took points off Richie for breathing too hard. Course, Richie was having an allergic reaction to the fumes coming from one of the Slytherin idiot's cauldron because he put some ingredient in too early. That kid lost two points. Richie lost twenty, for not being able to 'control himself' or something like that, plus got two days detention. McGonagall revoked the detentions, but couldn't do anything about the points."

"See, so you guys did good," said Charlie, his arm around the tall girl they didn't know.

"Win even managed to impress him," said Jeremiah, clapping a huge dark hand on his friend's shoulder.

"He called our potion adequate, that's it."

"Wait, you're telling me that Snape, Professor Severus Snape, head of Slytherin house, Potions _Master_, told a Gryffindor student, a first year, that his potion was anything better than slightly above cat urine? Did you create a potion that instantly cures Dragon Pox that also tastes like rainbows?" asked Ben, and Win just rolled his eyes again.

"It was just a boil potion."

"That tastes like rainbows?" asked Gary, an almost hopeful hint in his voice.

"What do we have next?" asked Win, shifting the focus away from himself.

"Transfiguration. Wish McGonagall favored us," said Tonks, checking her schedule.

"She seems to favor you, just a bit," said Remus, but Tonks shrugged.

"That's just because Transfiguration comes naturally to me," she answered, scrunching up her face and darkening her hair, before returning it to bubblegum pink.

"Oh, she definitely favors us," said Ben, placing a hand over his heart, " She's got a special place in her heart for all of us Gryffindors. She just does it in a subtle, elegant way that Snape can only dream of. Our McGonagall is a classy lady, but a Gryffindor through and through."

The warning bell for the next class rang, and the first years left the older students in the Entrance Hall and mounted the Grand Staircase to head for their next class.

**As the story goes on, we will learn more about why Snape hates Remus so much, and no, it's not something as simple as 'He stepped into Dumbledore's office at the last moment before Remus went back.' Their relationship is much more emotionally complicated than that (but seriously, Snape already hates Remus a lot, and Remus has no particular happy feelings toward Snape). Until then, reviews, yes/yes?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't have to be writing a huge AU, would I? This is just what the series would be, because Remus is awesome and I find Harry sort of boring.**

John Lupin had assured his son that there was no place in the world safer than Hogwarts, but the comforting words didn't enter Remus's mind when he glanced up at the small lunar clock sitting on Professor Armistead's desk on Monday. Next to the time floated a small white orb, and the reality of what it meant came crashing back down on him in an instant.

"Remus?" asked Armistead, and he jerked his gaze away from the clock to meet the professor's eyes, and saw that Armistead was looking at him with some concern, "What is one of the Keys of Combat that Mr. Baers lists in Chapter 1?"

"Um, short spells are most effective, especially if the battle lasts longer than ten spells," Remus said, then glanced down at his notes to check his answer and for somewhere else to look besides the clock.

"Very good, Remus. Can anyone tell me any others?" he asked, and several hands went into the air. Remus tried to concentrate on the answers, but his eyes were drawn up to the small orb more often than they were drawn to his notes, and he only noticed that the class was dismissed when Tonks and Adam stood from their seats next to him.

The rest of the day felt hazy, and Remus barely touched his food at lunch or dinner. By the time the common room filled up with various Gryffindors studying or lounging around, Adam and Tonks were exchanging nervous glances as they watched their friend, hunched over his Transfiguration textbook and scrawling hurried notes over a spare piece of parchment in between long looks out the tall windows at the rapidly darkening sky.

Shortly after ten, Remus put away his textbooks and quill, but instead of packing up and heading to bed, he just pulled out one of his ever-present books, a battered copy of _The Phantom Tollbooth_, and settled back into the armchair. The room had mostly cleared out by now, the fire dying down, but he quickly lost himself in the familiar book. The moon was a far distant thought until he glanced up from Milo's adventures to see Tonks and Adam sitting across from him, both lit from behind by the orange light of the fire and their features pale in the white light of the moon. Adam was playing solitaire with a pack of worn Muggle cards, Tonks alternating between helping Adam with his game and staring intently at Remus as he read.

"I'm sorry, guys. You can go on up if you want. No need to wait around for me. I'm just getting to the good part," he said, but neither of them moved except for Adam turning over another card.

"What's going on?" asked Tonks, and try as he might, Remus couldn't keep his eyes from straying towards the tall windows, and she caught on immediately.

"It's the full moon, isn't it?" she said, and Remus studied the page in front of him.

"I know it's stupid, to be afraid of a day, to be scared of something so far away, but it's just force of habit, I guess."

"'S not stupid," said Adam, considering his options before relocating a stack and looking up at Remus, blue eyes very pale in the moonlight as his spikes cast an orange halo around his head.

"You guys don't really need to stick around though, seriously. I'm just going to read a little bit longer, and then head up," said Remus, but no one moved. And then Adam spoke.

"'S okay. This is what friends are for," he said, and silence came over the three of them. They had, of course, known they were friends before- ate meals together, sat by each other in class, studied in the common room together. But none of them had ever acknowledged it like Adam just had, hadn't spoken it out loud that they were friends, and were there for each other beyond questions about Transfiguration and discussions over whether the Sheppard's pie was any good. And it seemed so simple, the words, but they were still a little stunned at how easily this friendship had happened without really much effort on their parts. The three of them sat in quiet, the fire crackling softly, a clock ticking somewhere, letting the words sink in, before Tonks spoke, carefully, cautiously.

"Why'd you stand your ground? Why didn't you just run?" she asked Remus, eyes locked on his, and he could see the real question in them: _Were you terrified?_

He considered it for a moment, thought about lying, telling her some story about how he hadn't been terrified out of his mind, but friends tell each other the truth, so he said, "It didn't feel right. To look him in the eye, and then run away. I was terrified," he continued, and he remembers the frantic escapes, the explosions of pain in his arm, his shoulder, and those huge green-brown eyes, "I was more scared than I've ever been in my entire life, but it didn't feel right to run. There was just," he paused for a second, searching for the right word, but not finding it, "Something. There was just something that said '_Don't run_.' This gut feeling that running was _wrong_. I couldn't run anymore than I could just stand there and let him attack me. I _had_ to fight. I don't know, that probably sounds foolish."

"It doesn't. There's a reason you ended up in Gryffindor, isn't there? The house of the brave, if occasionally stupid?" said Adam, scooping the cards up and reshuffling them. He dealt the cards between himself and Tonks, and the two engaged in a spirited, if quiet, game of War while Remus went back to his book. But he found himself glancing up every few pages to watch his friends' silent victories and defeats as they turned their cards over again and again in the dying firelight and glaring moonlight, and thought about what that word _friends_ meant, now that it had been acknowledged out loud.

As Milo, Tock and The Humbug encountered Alec Bings, Adam gave a yawn that seemed about to dislocate his jaw with its sheer magnitude, and Remus closed the book and said to his two friends, "I think I'm heading up now. I'm at a good stopping point." Adam gathered up his cards and Tonks stood to stretch while Remus slipped the book into his bag.

He remained by his chair though, bag slung over his shoulder, watching his best friends head up their respective staircases and didn't know why it was so hard to find what he wanted to say, why his brain and his throat and his lungs wouldn't cooperate, but at the last second it seemed, his voice came out, quiet and more like a breath than actual words, but Tonks and Adam both stopped on the stairs at his soft "Thank you."

Adam just smiled sleepily and said, "No problem, mate. See you in a few hours, I guess. G'night, Tonksie," before he disappeared up the staircase. Tonks remained where she was, sending an exasperated eye roll at Adam over the nickname, but then returning her gaze to Remus.

"He's right, Remus. It's what friends are for. It's not a problem. Besides, I still owe you from the train," she said, looking unsure, McNair's words still biting even now.

But Remus smiled slightly, moving to the bottom of the girls' staircase, "What are friends for if not for sticking up for you when you need it? It's not a problem," he said, grinning up at her, and she returned his smile.

"Night, Remus."

"Night, Nymphadora."

"Don't call me that," she tossed over her shoulder softly before disappearing around the curve of the staircase, but Remus just grinned, heading for his own staircase.

The dorm was still bright with moonlight, and Remus could see it casting a glow off Adam's remarkably spiky hair from where his friend had collapsed on top of his covers, and recalled the other boy's earlier words as he quickly changed and climbed into his own four-poster. Staring up at the canopy, he remembered that night.

He remembered how he'd stared into the werewolf's hateful eyes for what seemed like an eternity, but must have been only seconds, remembered diving _towards_ it to avoid it, the power of it as it attacked again and again, the splatter of blood and silver as he'd slipped. But mostly Remus remembered how most of his brain had been screaming, absolutely _screaming_, for him to run, to get away, but his heart had said _Stay, Fight, this is where it happens_, and he had no idea what _it_ was, but his body had followed his heart, and he was still here, unbitten.

There were some days when he wished he had just run, had escaped into the safety of his home and his parents, when he wished that his right shoulder bore no mark at all because he had chosen immediate safety over some sense of bravery and destiny. And almost every day he wished that Greyback had never emerged from those woods, that he had never really been concerned with werewolves a day in his life except as some anonymous threat that was in no way related to his daily life.

But on nights like this, with these friends, with those words spoken aloud, Remus found he wasn't really that concerned with the moon at the moment.

* * *

The next morning, Remus woke up tired, but happy. As he moved to his trunk, he kicked at Adam's mattress and said, "Morning, mate." The other boy just groaned and didn't move. Remus rolled his eyes and kicked again.

"I don't want to," came the muffled voice from his pillow, "Why did I stay up so late again?"

"Because that's what friends are for," said Remus, pulling his clothes out of his trunk as Adam sat up.

"I've decided I no longer want to be friends. It now feels like a bad life decision."

"Too bad. Now hurry up and get dressed or we won't get anything to eat."

"Because the Hogwarts kitchens so often run out of food for us."

"Just get dressed and stop tempting fate so openly," said Remus, and Lewis, looking nearly as tired as the other two boys as he entered the dormitory, laughed and sat on his bed to wait for the other two, as Win and Jeremiah had already headed down. Once they were all dressed, and Remus had dragged Adam from his bed again, they headed down the stairs to where Tonks waited for them.

When they reached the table, the owls were just starting to arrive, and as Remus grabbed himself some toast, Shaaro landed beside his plate and snatched a piece of his own from Remus's hand to nibble at as another owl landed with _The Daily Prophet_. The big black owl glared at Remus's, but Shaaro continued to eat his breakfast, not bothered by the other owl's presence. Remus was still occupied with Shaaro and his own food, so he handed the paper to Lew, who began to read silently before Jeremiah poked his arm with a spoon.

"Care to share with the group, Lo?" he asked, using the nickname Win had given him during their first week, because he had felt weird being the only one who didn't go by his full name, and Jeremiah had threatened immediate and terrifying violence upon being called 'Jerry' the first time.

"Uh, negotiations on track for new Goblin legislation, increased pressure on Flourish and Blotts from new bookshop in Diagon Alley, and, oh, hey, robbery at Gringotts last night! Four ounces of centaur ashes were stolen from a medium security vault, owned by an unnamed apothecary owner."

"This guy had four ounces of centaur ashes? Those are about as rare as any potion ingredient on the planet," said Win, and Jeremiah laughed at his best friend.

"Yeah, because the most amazing thing about a break in at Gringotts is what was taken, not the fact that Merlin himself wouldn't be able to break into Gringotts on a good day. Wonder how they did it?" he said, but Win just rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't even a high security vault. If he'd broken into one of those, I'd be impressed."

"Well, I'm still impressed," said Tonks, taking the paper from Lewis and scanning the article, "Said it was robbed late last night in the waning hours of a gala being thrown for the new legislation. Bold move, going into a crowded Gringotts and walking out with an urn of one of the most valuable potion ingredients in the world."

"True story," said Adam, slapping Remus's hand as it crept towards his plate to snag some of his bacon.

Outside McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom, Remus could feel the exhaustion deep inside his bones, and leaned against the wall, sucking a deep breath through his teeth and trying to relax his sore shoulder muscles, the ache in the scar deep today. Tonks and Adam both looked tired still, but neither of them seemed to be feeling the effects quite as badly as Remus. They were worried, but at Remus's urging, they went down to lunch without him. He slid down the wall in the now deserted corridor and rested his head back against the wall for a few moments.

"Adam and Tonks said you'd be here," said a voice from above him, and Remus opened his eyes to see Professor Armistead looking down at him. He started to push himself up, but Armistead stopped him before settling down on the floor next to him with a sigh.

"This seemed so much easier when I was a student. Must be getting old," he said, earning a tired smile from Remus. "Late night last night?"

Remus nodded, "Got caught up reading my book, didn't realize how late it was getting," he said, "Tonks and Adam stayed up with me, but I guess they must have gotten better sleep than I did when we finally went up."

Armistead was silent for a moment before he spoke, "Full moon was last night."

It wasn't a question, but Remus answered anyway, "Yes."

Armistead was quite for a moment, "I think that's why you're so tired, why you're feeling the effects more than your friends. Think how much tension you had all yesterday, and last night," he paused for a moment, looking at Remus, "It must be hard sometimes, the full moon, and this is your first one at Hogwarts. Your scar really bothers you some days, doesn't it?" Remus nodded, and he paused again, "What did you read?"

Remus was thrown off by the question, his hand having risen up to cover the exposed bit of scar tissue, but answered after a few seconds, "Uh, _The Phantom Tollbooth_."

"By Juster?" Remus nodded, and Armistead stood up, offering a hand to him that he took gratefully and got to his feet as well, "Good book. Come with me." Remus followed the professor silently to his office. He was wondering what they were doing when they entered the office, and Remus was confronted with the towering shelves of books that covered the office walls. Armistead ran his fingers over the spines of several before he carefully pulled one out and tossed it to Remus.

"You ever read that one?" he asked, and Remus looked at the title: _The Adventures of Tom Sawyer_ by Mark Twain. He shook his head, and Armistead smiled. "Good. I think you'll like it. Read that next full moon; maybe take your mind off things a little faster. Also, if you can manage to sneak down here, I'm a bit of an insomniac. Not that I'm encouraging any kind of blatant rule breaking," he said, rummaging around in his desk for a moment before tossing something else to Remus.

"Chocolate, sir?"

"It helps, I promise. It'll help you get through the day, at least, until you can get some proper sleep. Now, you should probably get on down to lunch, your friends were worried about you. And don't let that spoil your meal."

"Thanks, Professor," said Remus, and left with a wave as Armistead turned back to his books.

He made it through the rest of the day fairly well, the chocolate helping just as Armistead said it would, though Remus had to reassure Tonks several times that he really was just fine now. After he'd finished the homework he needed to for the night, he read the last bit of _The Phantom Tollbooth_, but Tonks sent him a rather terrifying glare before she shifted her eyes to the clock as he reached for _Tom Sawyer_, and he smiled at her and obediently packed his bag and bid her goodnight, and he and Adam ascended the stairs together.

Remus glanced out the window as they passed, and came to a surprised stop when he noticed a figure racing across the lawn, something small tucked under its arm. "Adam," he hissed, and the other boy descended back a few steps to look out the window with him.

"That looks like Linkin," he said, and Remus recognized the stoop and slightly limping gait as well.

"What's he doing headed for the Forest in such a hurry, and so late?"

"I don't know, and with the stories I've heard, I can't imagine anyone hurrying to get there. But, Merlin, I'm about dead on my feet, Remus, let's head up, and worry about him tomorrow at the earliest."

"Sounds like a plan to me," said Remus, but he watched until Linkin disappeared into the cover of the trees before following Adam up the staircase.

**Here we've established that Remus and Armistead are bookworms, and that Adam and Tonks are awesome friends. And look, there's a little bit of plot in amongst all the good character stuff. Or at least I hope it was good character stuff, and, you know, real plot. Also, I'm sorry for the super long wait. I know you all probably hate me now.**


	8. Chapter 8

"Are you sure it was Linkin?" asked Tonks the next morning, after the boys had told her about the caretaker's late night scamper across the grounds.

"Pretty sure. He had the same limp, and the moon was still almost full, so it was pretty light outside," Remus said as he scanned the bulletin board for announcements concerning first years.

"He was probably just out on some caretaking thing, but he was moving towards the forest faster than I really think anyone in their right mind would," said Adam, leaning back against the wall next to the board, "Especially so close to full moon."

"Hey, flying lessons after lunch!" said Tonks, pointing to the notice before groaning, "Figures we'd get stuck with the Slytherins, though."

Remus almost groaned along with her, but not even Slytherins could ruin flying, could they? Surely nothing short of pure evil could take away the joy of being in the air. And it wasn't Snape teaching, so it was a definite improvement over one of the other classes they shared with the Slytherins.

"Well, come on then, you two, before you starve to death," she said, and Adam pushed away from the wall with an indignant huff.

"We don't eat that much," said Remus, but the two boys followed obediently after Tonks.

"Oh, but you do. At times, I'm actually stunned at the sheer amount of food you two consume at each meal."

Adam rolled his eyes behind her back and looked at Remus, "She's just jealous."

"Yes, that's what it is, I'm jealous of the fact that your stomachs have apparently unlimited capacity."

"Well, why wouldn't you be? It's quite a talent," said Remus, coming up on one side of her as Adam took the other.

"I can barely think of any reasons," she said, answering Adam's eye roll with one of her own when he responded, "Exactly!"

The morning passed slowly in the anticipation of the coming lesson, and when lunch was finished the Gryffindors streamed eagerly across the grounds to where Madame Hooch, the strict looking flying instructor, stood in between two long lines of brooms. The brooms looked rather worse for the wear, twigs sticking out at funny angles, handles notched and the polish worn off in places, but a broom was a broom, thought Remus.

He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in his excitement as Madame Hooch strolled slowly between the two rows, neatly divided between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors. She stopped for a moment in front of Remus, hawk-like yellow eyes lingering on the scar, and he kept himself from self-consciously covering it with his hand by thinking about the fact that he'd never met someone else whose eyes were as amber as his were before.

She looked away from him and turned at the head of the column of students, giving them another look over before she spoke, "All right, class. I'm Madame Hooch, and while you are under my instruction, you will follow everything I say to the letter. I will not have you putting yourself or any of your classmates in danger because you think daddy or mummy or big brother taught you everything you need to know about a broomstick. Understood?" The class nodded, and she smiled slightly before continuing.

"Everyone standing by a broom? Good. Now, stick your right hand out, and say 'Up!' Like you mean it, class, like you mean it!"

Various shouts of 'Up!' filled the air, with equally varying degrees of success. Remus's broom shot up to his hand almost immediately, and he watched as McNair's did the same in the row across from him. Tonks and Adam's brooms came up after a few insistent calls, and soon, almost everyone was holding on to a broom. When Madame Hooch turned her back, Daisy reached down quickly to pick hers up, and Remus couldn't hold back a small smirk.

"Now, swing one leg over, and do try to do this without tripping and impaling yourselves on the broom of the person next to you," Madame Hooch said, and without realizing it, Remus reached out towards Tonks to steady her and nearly missed his own broom. But Tonks wasn't even the slightest bit unsteady, and she sent him an angry look as Madame Hooch moved around, correcting their grips.

"Everyone on? On my whistle, kick off hard from the ground, hover for a few seconds, and then return to the ground. Do not go any higher than a few meters, and do not remain in the air for more than a few seconds. Bring your brooms back down to the ground by leaning forward slightly. Ready?" she asked, and gave a short blast of her whistle.

Remus dug his toe into the hard ground, and felt it drop away from under him. A breath of freedom filled his chest, and he could barely keep from beaming as the class rose up around him, and then returned to the ground. Because of his long legs, his toes still brushed the grass as they rose again, but that didn't manage to diminish the absolute joy of being in the air.

They continued this exercise for the remainder of the class period, eventually ascending almost ten meters into the air, slowly and with no other direction but straight up, but still, it was flying. And most of the Slytherins were concentrating so hard on staying on their brooms that they couldn't say anything snide to any of the Gryffindors.

When the bell finally rang out across the grounds, Madame Hooch brought them to the ground one last time and told them their next lesson would be next week, same day, same time, and dismissed them.

Remus was still flying high when dinner rolled around despite the fact that Tonks seemed to be giving him the cold shoulder. But the rest of the boys were just as excited as Remus was, and spent most of the two class periods after the lesson bragging to the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, who didn't have their first lesson until the day after tomorrow. The girls spent most of this time rolling their eyes.

He spent most of dinner trying to figure out how to get Tonks to talk to him, but when he looked up at the High Table, Remus saw one of the doors behind the table open. Linkin slunk in, the collar of his overcoat pulled up over his face. He was just about to turn to point the caretaker out to Adam and, if she would listen to him, Tonks, but Linkin met his eyes.

And when their eyes met, the caretaker let his collar fall away and smirked at Remus with a mouth full of sharp pointed teeth, and suddenly all Remus could see was Greyback all that time ago, sneering at him in the early morning light. He wanted to run as far as he could as fast as he could, but Tonks wrapped a hand around his arm.

"Remus, what's wrong? You're as white as Nearly Headless Nick."

"Nothing," he said, shaking a little, but turning back to his food. Tonks just shook her head at him and turned back to her conversation with Lewis. As soon he cleared his plate, he got up and left the Great Hall, not bothering to wait for Adam or Tonks. He couldn't think about anything but getting away from Linkin and his strange new teeth.

"I can take care of myself, you know." Remus looked up from _Tom Sawyer_ to see Tonks standing in front of him, arms crossed. He wasn't sure how she'd found his hiding place, a tiny table at the very back of the library surrounded by huge shelves, but he wasn't really surprised.

"I know," he said, and she sat down across from him.

"Than how come today when Hooch mentioned tripping, you automatically reached towards me? I don't need you to always rescue me, Remus."

"I know."

"Than why do you do it all the time?"

"I don't want you to fall," he said, and she seemed taken back by his answer, "That's how friends are supposed to be, right?"

She scoffed and shook her head, "That's what friends are for? Remus, you know I'm glad we're friends and that you do that for me, because everyone knows I need it, but you won't let us help you. It's like trying to get past a dragon, getting you to talk about what's bothering you."

"What do you mean?" Remus asked, and Tonks shook her head again.

"Today, you looked like you were just about scared to death by something, and you wouldn't even talk to me about it. And today's not the first time. Why is it so hard for you to open up? You're there to catch me time and time again. In Charms today, you helped Adam understand the Levitating Spell, which had been giving him trouble for almost a week. You're the first one to offer to help someone, but you can't bring yourself to let us into a little bit of what's bothering you."

Remus stared for a moment, and then quietly said, "He looked like Greyback."

"Who?" asked Tonks.

"Linkin. He looked at me, and smirked, and his teeth looked just like Greyback's. And it terrifies me."

"Greyback?"

Remus nodded, "He's always a part of my life. Every time I look at the moon, he's there. Every time a full moon comes around, I can't sleep. And today, when I looked at Linkin and saw those teeth, all I could think was 'Run.' I can't escape him, despite the fact that I haven't seen him in over five years. Because even if you lock me in a room with no windows and let me lose all track of time, I've got this," he said, gesturing to his scar. "Whenever I look in the mirror, or take a shower, or go swimming, I'm reminded that he is out there, _waiting for me_."

"And you don't think other people will understand?" said Tonks, looking like she was building up a head of steam to yell at him.

"No, I don't think it matters if other people understand or not. Because other people shouldn't have to put up with this. I shouldn't be this terrified. I haven't seen Greyback in five years. I'm going to school in one of the safest places in the wizarding world. I've got plenty of people all around me to help protect me. And yet today when I saw Linkin's teeth, which probably have nothing to do with Greyback at all, well, you said it yourself, I looked half scared to death."

"And that's okay," said Tonks, moving her chair around the table, all anger gone from her voice. "Because doesn't that sometimes feel like falling? And isn't that what friends are for? If we all refused to share the parts of ourselves that are terrified of things, than we'd be even more confused then we are now."

Remus laughed, "You're really good at that."

"At what?"

"Using _my_ words to make _your_ point when you're trying to get me to come around to your point of view."

It was Tonks turn to laugh, "Must be a heredity thing. My mom's really good at it too. Now come on, I convinced Adam not to come with me and threaten to beat some sense into you, but I half expect him to come bursting in at any moment." She scoffed for a second, then shook her head and stood up.

"What?" he asked, as he followed her out, _Tom Sawyer_ in one hand.

"You two can be such _boys_ sometimes," she said, pulling a face that made Remus laugh. "You really like flying, don't you?"

Remus was a little surprised by the question, but nodded before asking, "Why?"

"You're usually pretty quiet, but today, you talked about the lesson more than any of the other guys. Lo and Win are usually pretty quiet too, but Adam can really talk if you get him going, and I honestly don't know if Jeremiah knows how to_ stop _talking. But you put all of them to shame. You looked like a little kid on Christmas morning."

Remus smiled, and shrugged, "I really like flying. It's like," he paused for a second, than looked down at the book in his hand, "It's like a book. It's an entirely different world, and sometimes the people have problems and sometimes they don't and sometimes it's a good story and sometimes it's not, but for a couple hours at a time, nothing about my life matters. The same with flying. Up there, nothing matters but that moment. Sometime you catch the Snitch, sometimes you hit a tree branch, and really, none of it matters once you hit the ground again." He shrugged. "I don't know, sometimes it's nice not to have to worry about stuff."

"Nobody writes books about your scar," she said, and Remus was about two seconds from totally freaking out, because Tonks really needed to stop reading his mind.

"Actually, they do. I signed several copies of them when I went to get my school stuff," he said, wanting to draw back into his shell, but instead smiling when Tonks shoved him and rolled her eyes.

"You know that's not what I meant at all," she said, and then considered him for a moment, "Other people's adventures always have a truer sparkle than our own, and they hold none of our own memories, our own old terrors." Remus looked at her strangely and she shrugged, "You're not the only one who reads. My dad's a big fan of Muggle poetry, can't get enough of it."

"I'm glad to see that I don't have to beat some sense into him," said a voice, and Adam stopped a little way down the corridor from them, looking just a little sheepish.

"Honestly, you two are always rushing off to be all manly and such, when I've clearly got everything under control."

"We apologize for trying to solve problems," said Remus, and Adam nodded as he fell into step with the other two.

"Since you two usually cause the problems, and then try to solve them with either violence or silence, it's probably best if you stay away from the whole 'solving' thing. Though I have to say I admire the effort."

The trio walked in silence for a few flights until Tonks turned to Remus. "His teeth looked like a werewolf's?" she asked, and quickly told Adam about Remus's earlier statements concerning Linkin at the other boy's confused look.

"Yeah. I mean, not huge like Greyback's when he was a werewolf, but the same kind of teeth, different than people teeth."

"Well, we did see him hurrying into the Forbidden Forest late at night. Maybe he's into some creepy stuff. It was even the night after the full moon. Maybe he charmed them to look like that?" said Adam, and Remus shrugged.

"I don't know. It just freaked me out. I'm probably just overreacting. I sometimes do, when it comes to this kind of stuff, with Greyback and all. Except, well," he said, but shook his head, until Tonks gave him a pointed look and he continued, "He was trying to hide it with his collar, but he had this huge cut across his cheek, kind of like a big claw mark."

"Well," said Adam, considering it for a second, "You're either totally crazy or Linkin is. I'd vote for Linkin, because honestly, the man gives me the creeps. But I want you to know that, even if you are crazy, I will still be your friend."

Remus considered that for a second before answering, "You know, Adam, that's actually surprisingly comforting."

"I'm a surprisingly comforting person."

"And conversations like this are the reason I have to solve all the problems."

**I can't tell you what poem Tonks quotes from, because I haven't read it in years, and can't remember anything except that one line. Don't hate me for it. Also, in case you haven't been able to figure this out yet, Remus is a huge bookworm, and seeks comfort in books, like all good bookworms. And Adam and Tonks are still awesome friends.**


	9. Chapter 9

Remus thought that three in the morning was a rather terrible time to be awake, but unfortunately his brain didn't seem to agree. When he'd blinked the sleep from his eyes, he groaned and stared at the still dark sky. After lying there for what felt like a long time, but was probably only a few minutes, alternating his gaze between the canopy of his bed and the swollen, nearly full moon outside, he became aware of a curious noise in the background. It sounded like piano music.

Giving up almost all hope of getting back to sleep and curious about the noise, Remus grabbed his wand and_ Tom Sawyer_ off his nightstand and descended the spiral staircase to the common room. Stopping at the bottom stair, he peered into the room carefully, surprised at what he saw. Lewis sat at the piano; looking more at ease than Remus had yet seen the other boy in the month he'd known him. He stood for a while, listening, before stepping into the room and heading to a seat near the piano. Lewis started slightly when Remus sat, but smiled and nodded when he realized who it was.

"Did I wake you up? I can't really tell how loudly I'm playing," he said, softly touching his ear, and Remus remembered their short conversation the night of their Sorting.

"No, I was already awake. Heard the music, came down to investigate," said Remus, and Lew looked nervous for a moment, opening his mouth several times and closing it again without making a sound before finally asking his question.

"Was it any good? I, uh, can't really tell," he said, touching his ears again, and Remus nodded quickly.

"It was great!" he paused for a moment before continuing. "Er, you play even when you can't hear? I didn't even know you played at all," said Remus, and then felt silly, as this was only the second real conversation he'd had with Lewis.

"My grandfather started teaching me when I was little. It, uh, helps, I think, or at least it feels like it does. I don't know, I just like to play," he said, and because they apparently had nothing more to say, they fell into silence while Lewis continued to play softly and Remus flicked through his book.

"Full moon tomorrow," Remus said, surprising himself and Lewis as well apparently, because he hit the first wrong note that Remus had heard him play the whole time.

"Yeah," he responded, his normally quite voice basically non-existent at this point. The two boys stared at each other for a few long moments, each clearly able to see that the other had something he wanted to say, something to explain why he was awake so early and why he was hiding away in the common room in his book or his music, some secret that explained somehow, at least a little, why he was the way he was.

But because it was 3 AM and they were both introverts by nature and they had only had two actual conversations in the time they had known each other, Remus opened up his book and Lewis turned back to his playing. They stayed that way for hours, Remus sitting in his armchair, only moving once to stand and retrieve a book from one of the bookcases that lined the room after he'd finished _Tom Sawyer_. Lo didn't stop at all, until they heard movement from the dorms above them.

At that point, they bid each other nervous good-byes, Remus returning the book to the shelf and heading upstairs to shower and change, while Lo headed straight down to breakfast, already dressed. And soon, in the best tradition of pre-teen and teenage boys, they put the incident out of their minds and went on with their lives. And of course, in the best tradition of Hogwarts and fate, it seemed to come crashing back into their lives later that night.

When Remus, Tonks and Adam took their seats across from Lewis at dinner that night, Remus noticed that the other boy was looking distinctly sick, his floppy brown hair hanging down into a face that was much paler than usual. His hands shook as he held his fork.

"You feeling all right, mate? You look pretty bad," said Adam, but Lewis didn't look up from his dinner. Adam looked at Remus and Tonks for an explanation, and Remus reached across the table and waved a hand over Lew's food. The other boy looked up in surprise, and Remus pointed to his own ear.

"Yeah. Worse now," he said, then looked down at his food again, "I think," he continued, pushing his food away, "I think I'll just head up. Don't feel much like eating."

The three of them watched the other boy push his way through the crowd still filing into the hall from their final classes of the day, and then turned back to their food without much thought. But just as everyone was settling down to eat, the huge doors of the Hall burst open, and Ben rushed in, running towards the Head Table.

His green eyes, already huge, were now almost comical in their largeness, and it was a good thing he'd shed his robe before coming down for dinner, or the scene would have been too laughable for anyone to take seriously. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and looked down at the prefect, whose usually immaculate spikes were messy, his silver badge crooked.

"Mr. Boyce?"

"There's a," Ben sputtered, gesturing over his shoulder, "a were- a were- there's a werewolf, sir. Third- third floor hallway, sir. Big, vicious-looking thing, sir. I'm really only still on my feet because passing out isn't manly."

The hall was silent for a moment, shock and Ben's reputation as a prankster creating a bubble of quiet for a few seconds. And then the bubble burst, and the hall filled with noise. Remus glanced up at the High Table as the teachers descended toward the tables in an effort to restore calm. Linkin slipped into his seat as Remus watched, a smile revealing his pointed teeth and something strange about his eyes.

Remus took off running.

For a moment, it was all about getting as far away from Linkin as possible, and then he remembered Lewis, sick and nearly deaf, heading up to the common room with no knowledge of what was going on. He sprinted through the doors and thought he heard someone yelling after him, but pretended he didn't notice it over the din, running faster. Nothing short of a brick wall could have stopped him now.

He'd made it up three staircases before he realized he heard footsteps behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see Adam and Tonks running after him. His long legs and head start gave him an advantage, but the other two were keeping pace fairly well. He wanted to shout at them, wanted to tell them to go back, but he was breathless from the run and the fear, so he counted stairs up and turned on to the stairs up to the fifth floor.

Rounding a corner, he saw Lewis standing, wand raised, opposite fist clenched. Rather than terror, his normally sad gray eyes were filled with anger as he stared at the massive shape at the end of the corridor. Remus froze, rooted to the spot as he saw the werewolf illuminated by the corridor's torches and the moonlight pouring in from the window.

Five years is a long time, but Remus wouldn't ever forget that face. Greyback was _here_, in Hogwarts, staring down a hallway at him. He heard Tonks and Adam slow to a stop beside him, but he couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breath. The werewolf bared its teeth and advanced at a run. Remus stayed frozen, but Lewis didn't. Their eyes met for a moment as they stood next to each other, and said _I can't tell you my secret because I'm embarrassed by it and it's really personal, but this is pretty much it._

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_" was what Lewis said out loud, and the werewolf was slowed, rising in the air and crashing back all within a moment. Remus was still frozen as Lewis backed up to stand by the others. Greyback regrouped and ran again, leaping toward the group.

"Remus!" Tonks yelled, her hand reaching out for his arm, and her touch brought him back to the present, the here and now, and he reached out, pulling Adam and Tonks down, Adam latching on to Lewis, and the werewolf soared over them. For a moment, he was there again, six years old and terrified, but he felt the reassuring pressure of Tonks on one side and Adam on the other.

He rolled over, fumbling his wand out of his pocket as he came face to face with Greyback. And in a moment of astounding clarity in the barrage of terror and memories, Remus could see what Greyback was here for.

Him, Remus Lupin, and him alone. The spell popped into Remus's head, a reaction more than an actual thought, and he shouted as Greyback moved to close his jaw around Remus's wrist.

"_Rotoisi!_" he yelled, and Greyback seemed surprised for a second before the silver light slammed into his mangled face and sent him flying backwards. The spin from the spell was just enough that the massive werewolf crashed through the glass of the nearest window, giving a long howl as he fell.

"Wow!" said a voice in front of Remus, and for the first time he saw the four teachers standing at the corner of the corridor, wands raised. It was Armistead who'd spoken, and Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape accompanied him.

Remus got shakily to his feet and helped the other three up, adrenaline still rushing, until he felt his legs nearly buckle and sank against the wall, feeling his shoulders shake against the stone. He felt as though he was going to be sick. Tonks sank down next to him as Lewis and Adam stared. Dumbledore and Armistead hurried over and crouched down in front of them as McGonagall looked on with worry and Snape rolled his eyes.

"Mr. Lupin, do you require the attention of Madame Pomfrey?" Dumbledore asked, but Remus shook his head, trying to push himself up, only to find three hands pushing him back down. "I think it would be best if you sat for a moment. What exactly happened here? Why did you leave the Great Hall in such a desperate hurry?"

Remus tried to speak, but his mouth was dry and his tongue heavy, and he only managed a few stuttering syllables before Tonks took over, "Lewis wasn't feeling well, and he's been having troubles with his ears all day, so he left dinner before Ben got there. Remus must have realized that and took off, and well, Adam and I followed Remus. We found Lewis and the werewolf here. Lewis got it with a spell, and then Remus got it with another and pushed out the window. We didn't do anything wrong."

"No, of course not. Though it might be said that your exit from the hall was a little hasty," said Dumbledore, smiling softly, and Tonks and Remus both blushed and looked down. Behind them, Adam did the same. "Well, as long as no one was injured, I think these students should head back down to dinner. I'm sure they're all absolutely famished. Professor Snape, would you be so kind as to fetch Mr. Linkin for me, it seems this window needs some repair." Snape looked offended, but left nonetheless, and McGonagall went with him. Armistead asked Remus if he was all right one last time, and then followed his colleagues.

When the others had disappeared, Remus finally found his voice as Dumbledore turned to follow them, "It was Greyback, sir. I'd know him anywhere."

Dumbledore stopped, turning slowly to look at Remus over his half-moon glasses. "I see," he said, "You are sure you don't need to visit the hospital wing, Mr. Lupin?" Remus nodded, "Very well then. Thank you." He said, and left the four first years in the corridor, Tonks and Remus leaning against the wall, Adam and Lewis standing in front of them.

"Thanks," said Lewis, his voice barely a whisper, the angry red fading from his cheeks to be replaced by the sickly pallor of earlier, "I think I'll just head up now."

"Are you sure you don't need Madame Pomfrey?" asked Remus, concerned for the other boy even though he felt sick himself. Lewis looked considerably worse than Remus felt.

"No, but thanks," he responded, and turned on his heel, leaving without another word. The three remaining Gryffindors heard footsteps coming towards them, and turned to see Linkin approaching, a large dustpan in one hand and a look of pure fury on his face. Remus felt frozen again, and terrified, his heart beating so fast and so loud that he thought that Linkin must be able to hear it, but he forced himself to meet the caretaker's eyes. He didn't know what he was trying to prove, but Linkin just gritted his sharp teeth and moved past them, muttering something that Remus couldn't understand.

"Come on, Remus, let's head back down. I think Adam's about two minutes away from collapsing due to lack of food."

"Am not!"

"Are too," said Tonks, without missing a beat, reaching out to tug on Remus's robe to get him moving.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"You and Remus both are. I can tell."

"What, do you have magical powers or something?"

There was a moment of silence as they descended the Grand Staircase before Tonks spoke again, "Well, yeah. That's why they gave me the wand and let me go to school here. But I've also known you and Remus for over a month now, and if you're not studying or sleeping, you're hungry. And I don't know, maybe you dream about food."

Adam looked at Remus for a second, who shrugged, before saying, "You know us too well."

"I know," said Tonks, and they entered the Great Hall unnoticed, while Dumbledore explained the situation to everyone. A overwhelming feeling of nervousness still hung in the air, but once Dumbledore had sat back down, the chatter in the hall gradually picked up again and a crowd gathered around Ben, who'd almost managed to stop shaking by this point.

Remus spent the rest of dinner shoving his food around his plate in an attempt to make it look like he'd eaten it, and avoiding the gazes of those around him. He managed to passively participate in the conversations going on, and when dinner was over, he sat in the common room with Tonks, Adam, Winfield and Sophia and worked on his Transfiguration essay and a star chart for Astronomy.

At half past nine, when the common room began to clear out, Remus packed up his stuff and headed up to the dorms with Adam and Win, bidding good night to Tonks and Sophia. Changing into his pajamas, he said the same to the four other boys and lay down to sleep. For two hours, he stared up at the canopy of his bed, lost to the darkness, as someone had drawn the curtains, cutting off the moon's light.

And then, just before midnight, Remus got out of bed, walked silently and carefully down to the common room, and was dreadfully, violently sick in the trashcan near the fireplace. When he'd finally stopped vomiting, he sat with his head back against the bricks of the fireplace, tears running down his face, trying to calm his racing heart and praying that no one would descend the stairs.

He could see his hands shaking in the dim, dying light of the fire, his tears giving them a strange, yellow, glowing look, and he tried to put them on his knees, but in doing that he found that they were shaking also. It was only then that he realized his whole body was shaking, not with sobs but with fear and anger and exhaustion. Every muscle in his body hurt, and he could feel each heartbeat somewhere in the back of his skull.

But as he stared down at his wrist, where he could still feel the heat of Greyback's breath on his skin, Remus knew that there weren't any marks there, ran his hand over it to make sure, felt only smooth skin and bumpy, faded blue veins. And he remembered how to breathe again, and how to think without the persistent haze of terror clouding his brain. Pushing himself up from the ground, he went to wash his mouth out in the bathroom and went back to bed.

The familiar dream came again, but because it was familiar, it held much less terror than the day had, and Remus slept through it.

* * *

"Quidditch this weekend!" said Adam, by way of greeting to Remus and Tonks the next morning. "Gryffindor-Ravenclaw."

"Don't we usually play Slytherin first?" asked Remus, through a yawn.

"Yeah, but they claimed that bad weather and injuries prevented them from having tryouts on time, so them and Ravenclaw switched positions this year."

"They probably just want to put off the embarrassment of losing for as long as possible," said Tonks, and the other two nodded in agreement.

"You guys see this yet?" asked Jeremiah when they'd reached the table, pushing _The Daily Prophet_ across to them. "More centaur ashes got stolen."

"From Gringotts?" asked Remus, scanning the story from next to Tonks.

"No, some private apothecary owner. But it was more this time, the store had just gotten in a big shipment. Win nearly fainted when he heard the amount."

"Did not," said Win around a mouthful of toast. Jeremiah rolled his eyes and continued.

"Just over sixteen ounces. It was a big shipment apparently," he said, and Win just shook his head and muttered to himself in astonishment.

Sophia, sitting between Win and Lewis, who still looked a little pale, asked, "Do they think it was the same person who robbed the Gringotts vault?"

Jeremiah shrugged, speaking around a mouthful of something, "Don' know. Jus' said Aurors were still investigatin'."

Sophia pulled a face as Tonks rolled her eyes before speaking, "What could anyone want to do with over 30 ounces of centaur ashes besides sell them on the black market?"

The group fell silent against the ever-present chatter of the hall for a few seconds, looking at each other as if searching for the answer in their friends' faces, before Adam spoke up.

"Zombie centaur?" he said, and silence reigned for a few more moments before Win gave one of his huge barks of laughter and Jeremiah nearly fell out of his spot on the bench. Even Lewis gave a huge grin, and Remus laughed with the rest of them.

The threat of Greyback didn't seem far away, because he'd watched through the window as the werewolf had escaped into the Forbidden Forest, because he could still feel the heat on his wrist and see the hate in those eyes, because whatever had contained his irrational fear of Greyback now wanted to scream at him that it'd been right, because something in the back of his mind was trying to remind him of something to do with centaur ashes.

It wasn't that the threat seemed far away that allowed him to laugh, but rather the thought that it didn't matter so much when he was with his friends.


	10. Chapter 10

The Saturday of the match dawned bright and clear, and the feeling in the Great Hall was almost electric. Students ate as quickly as possible in order to make it out to the field early to secure good seats.

The Ravenclaws, quiet, serious, gathered around their captain, Kingsley Shacklebolt, a sixth year Beater with a voice that came as close to a roll of thunder as Remus had ever heard and a gold hoop hanging from his ear. He was tall and bald, in striking contrast to Charlie Weasley, the Gryffindor captain.

Charlie's hair was so vibrant you could see it from across the room despite the fact that he wore it buzzed close to his head. Stocky and shorter than Shacklebolt by several inches, Charlie slouched in his seat, chatting easily with Ben and the team, laughing and joking in a way that would have seemed foreign to the Ravenclaw team on a game day.

The Ravenclaws departed the Hall before anyone else, intense, staring straight forward as they left, accompanied by polite cheering and clapping from their table, but the Gryffindors remained in their seats even as the other students began to filter out toward the field, chattering eagerly. But for all their joviality, there was an obvious current of tension and eagerness in the group. Spaces had been left between the team and the rest of the house, Ben the only one willing to cross the line. Everyone knew that there would be no hostility towards anyone if they were to breach the barrier, but no one really wanted to try it either way.

The Gryffindors all waited until their team rose, and as they exited the hall, Ben led the table in a huge cheer of "Let's Go Lions!" that left the hall ringing with their voices as they followed the team out. Remus, Tonks and Adam joined in the cheer enthusiastically, and then joined the group that headed down towards the field behind Ben.

Most of the sixth and seventh years crowded against the wooden railing of the Gryffindor section, so the three first years were able to find seats only a few rows up, settling in as the teams strode out on to the pitch. Meeting at half field, the contrast between the dark, tall Kingsley and vibrant, stocky Charlie was only more apparent than it had been in the Great Hall as the two captains shook hands.

Madame Hooch spoke briefly to the two teams, then stepped back near the crate behind her as the fourteen players swung legs over their brooms, and tensed, ready for flight. Hooch gave a short blast on her whistle as the Bludgers rose into the air, the brooms and the Quaffle following moments later. Mac Gerritsen, Charlie's girlfriend, who Remus knew by sight only, shot a long arm out and corralled the toss as a magically amplified voice that Remus vaguely recognized filled the stadium.

"And we're off! Gerritsen secures the opening toss for Gryffindor and wastes no time in speeding toward the Ravenclaw posts. Dodges one Ravenclaw Chaser, drops the ball back to Willi Pop, Pop to Reimer, Reimer, avoids one, two Ravenclaws and a Bludger, takes a shot and… scores! Yell Reimer opens the Hogwarts Quidditch season with a brilliant far post shot that puts the Lions up 10-0!"

Remus leaned forward in his seat to speak to Win, sitting in the row in front of him, almost yelling over the crowd noise already filling the stadium. "Who's doing the commentary?"

It was Jeremiah who answered, leaning back, speaking over the pandemonium of the Gryffindor section as a Bludger knocked the Quaffle away from a Ravenclaw Chaser and Yell Reimer scooped it up. "It's Jay Eelyop. Hufflepuff, in Ben's year, I think. Dad owns the owlery in Diagon Alley. Up there," he said, pointing towards the booth next to their section. Remus recognized the boy sitting next to Professor Sprout as the wild-haired shop assistant who'd sold him Shaaro.

"Gryffindor's got the Quaffle, Gerritsen jetting ahead again, just head and shoulders above, head and shoulders, folks. Oooh, her brooms clipped by a Bludger sent her way via Shacklebolt, loses her grip for a moment, and Matkins picks it away. Goes behind his back to Dualus, spins by Pop and gets the Quaffle back, takes a shot… snagged at the very edge of his reach by Tony Rafting. Where _does _the Gryffindor Keeper find shirts with sleeves that long? Rafting to Reimer, flanked by the Pickle twins, and Gryffindor is off again, up 70-20."

Remus quickly scanned for the Snitch, but his attention was drawn away from his search by a chant coming from the Gryffindor section in front of him, the voices of the older students rising raucously into, "Early! Early! Early!" Charlie, who'd been hovering near the Gryffindor section as he scanned for the Snitch, turned, smiling, and shook his head at his housemates, before turning a lazy loop-de-loop in the air and flying off above the game, again to cheers from the section in front of the seats, and from the seats as well.

"Ravenclaw with the Quaffle again, and it's starting to become the Ray-Ray Matkins' show, as the Pickle twins have Dualus and Samberry completely shut down. If that last Bludger didn't break Samberry's fingers, the girl has bones of titanium. Ray-Ray spins around Gerritsen, around Pop, goes left, goes right, shoots middle, and scores! Matkins takes it himself and scores for the third straight time, closing the Gryffindor lead to 30, ninety to six- look at Weasley go! Sonia Path is right on his tail, but Weasley has got the advantage.

"They split around a Bludger sent their way by Jordan or Jaden Pickle, and continue downward. Charlie Weasley reaches out and… yes! He's got it, Weasley has got the Snitch! Head and shoulders above, just head and shoulders! Final score: Gryffindor, 240, Ravenclaw, 60!"

The team had come to hover in front of the stands after shaking hands with the Ravenclaws, and the Gryffindors' cheers of "Early! Early!" changed quickly into "Let's Go Lions!" They all waved, the Pickle twins and a reluctant Willi running across the front row with hands outstretched. Eventually, the team left with one last wave and a victory lap, and the crowd slowly filtered out toward the common room to continue celebrating there.

* * *

Remus chewed on a Licorice Wand from the collection of candy that someone had produced for the celebration, sitting back from the fire a little bit in the crowded common room. Adam sat across the table from him, looking over Remus's copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_, while Tonks shared the couch with Remus, curled up and yawning, but not wanting to leave the celebration yet.

Ben, with much commotion, broke away from the main group around the fire, with the team at its center, and collapsed into the chair next to Adam, pushing his dark hair away from his huge eyes and sighing out a laugh before taking a long drink of his water bottle.

"Merlin, I love winning Quidditch matches! One of the best feelings in the world," he said, gazing over at the group still massed around the fire, lively and happy, seemed about ready to jump up and join them again despite his tiredness when Remus spoke.

"What do you guys mean when you chant 'Early' for Charlie?" he asked, and Adam looked up from his book, interested as well, although Tonks remained curled quietly by his side.

Ben laughed before answering, "I told you guys that he was an early the night of the Sorting, didn't I? Well, but I don't suppose any of you knew what I meant, did you? I always do something like that in talking to the younger kids. Really, you should just all be handed a book on the intricacies of the Hogwarts' language the second you step in the door.

"Every couple of years, a student, usually a Ravenclaw, 'graduates' after only five years, and goes to do a two year apprenticeship or something. Then they come back and actually graduate with their class, and then they usually have a load of job offers waiting for them. Charlie's the first Gryffindor early in nearly fifty years. Kid's a genius with magical creatures, has an apprenticeship at some big dragon reserve in Romania.

"Imagine that. Fifteen years old and headed off to Romania to work with honest to Merlin dragons. And thus ends one of the greatest Gryffindor Quidditch careers ever," Ben paused for a moment to shake his head sadly and sigh, "But I suppose we do still have Macky, and it's a nice way to get the Ravenclaws at the Quidditch matches. They haven't had an early in nearly a decade now."

"Oh. So you don't bother breaking it out at the Hufflepuff or Slytherin games?" asked Remus, picking out another Licorice Wand for himself, and offering one to the dozing Tonks, who barely bothered to shake her head no.

"Ha! Oh no, we have to bring a much better game than that to the Hufflepuffs. They've got Gary on their side, and he's almost as brilliant as I am. No, you'll really get to see some good stuff when Gary and I start chanting back and forth. There's singing and dancing involved. It's intense. People who are 'too cool to participate' are disowned. We usually make them go sit with the Slytherins.

"And, well, the things that are shouted during the Slytherin/Gryffindor game really shouldn't be repeated in the company of ladies, first years, or anyone really, ever at all, because my shouting at that game goes way beyond putting my game face on and is just generally an attack against whichever Slytherin happens to be nearest to me. At least most of them probably deserve at least a little of the abuse thrown at them. Well, maybe. I say some awfully mean things."

Remus and Adam laughed as Ben glanced toward the crowd again and took another long drag on his drink, "Shouldn't you all be sleeping already? You've got The Race tomorrow. It's the biggest event outside of Quidditch matches in the whole school."

"We were just about to head up when you sat down, Uncle Ben," said Adam, looking over at Tonks. "See, Tonksey all ready got a head start."

"Don't call me that," Tonks mumbled in response, not bothering to open her eyes to glare, but turning her face in Adam's direction nonetheless.

"Come on, Tonks," said Remus, pulling her up, "You should head up to the dorms, before you end up spending the night down here."

Tonks nodded sleepily, "Night all. See you in the morning for The Race."

When she'd disappeared up the staircase, the three boys turned back to their talk. "Who won the race in your year?" Remus asked of Ben while the older boy took a long drag on a fresh drink someone had handed him.

"Charlie, of course. Wasn't even close. Chaser from Hufflepuff, Davide, finished nearly 10 seconds behind him for second place, and nobody was really that close to Davide. He's going to end up playing professional Quidditch in a couple years, mark my words. Merlin, can you imagine if he and Mac went to the same team? I think that'd truly be one of the greatest groups of Chasers ever assembled, regardless of who the third Chaser was.

"We've got four former Race champions on the team, Mac, Charlie, Yell, and Willi, and the Pickle twins both finished in the top ten. I don't think Tony actually flew in The Race, sick or something that day, and Tony's never really been that fast of a flyer anyway. Got reactions like a snake, but he's too gangly to be graceful. Honestly, Charlie's some sort of freak, flying the way he does, built like he is."

"We won The Race four years in a row? How often does that happen?" asked Adam, having abandoned his book to listen to Ben.

"About every ten years, a house will have a good run, win it a bunch in a row, maybe get a pair of siblings in there, that always helps. Bill finished in the top fifteen the year Mac won it, and it was Marcy Davide that finally broke the streak. Girl's whippet fast, and with nobody with supernatural flying abilities like Charlie to challenge her, I think her margin of victory got as close to Charlie's as anybody's ever gotten. His is the biggest victory in The Race's history."

"All the Quidditch players will be out there tomorrow, and honestly, even some people who wouldn't turn up to a Quidditch match if you paid them come out for The Race. That's mostly 'cause they hope a couple of first years will be involved in some kind of grisly crash, but there's certainly entertainment value in the drama and the winning house gets major bragging rights for the rest of the year, at least until the Quidditch and House Cups are awarded. And we've got a title to defend. Floyde won it last year, and we took second too, with Pratchy. And to think, neither of them is really interested in Quidditch. It's almost a tragedy worthy of Shakespeare."

Ben sat for a moment, staring past the group of Gryffindors into the fire, before taking a short drink and turning back to the other two. "Well, what are you waiting for? Off to bed, first years! The Race is on tomorrow!" A small cheer came from those left in the common room, which seemed to be most of the house, and the remaining first years were ushered upstairs to bed.

* * *

Nobody was really sure how The Race had gotten started, or when and why it had become such an important part of the culture at Hogwarts, which was unusual for the school. But nobody really cared about those things anymore; because it had become such an important tradition that new myths were constantly springing up about its history, and its champions.

After the first Quidditch match of the season, every first year physically able to took part in The Race. They'd been taking flying lessons with Hooch for several weeks by this point, and this was considered their final test, a long, winding race that covered most of the open grounds of the school, each year a different course with the same ending point: the center ring of the Quidditch stadium. Like Ben had said, it meant yearlong bragging rights for the winner's house, and lifelong bragging rights for the winners themselves.

The race started at exactly noon, giving everyone plenty of time to eat a late breakfast and find seats in the bleachers set up along the course. A small version of the course was drawn on to the far wall of the Quidditch field, and each first year was given a number, which corresponded to a ball of light that marked their progress along the course. Most of the students preferred to sit in the high seats of the Quidditch stadium and watch the race unfold through the balls of light, but the Quidditch teams of each house usually spread themselves out along the course.

Remus, standing with the others at the starting line as Madame Hooch inspected their school issued brooms, could see Charlie and Ben sitting in the first set of stands, Charlie's hair and bulk standing out and Ben's voice slightly audible even from this distance. They were currently grouped by houses, but they would be mixed together randomly at the starting line before The Race started. Remus rubbed his hands over the rough wood of the handle of this broom, given to him a few minutes before by Professor McGonagall, and turned to listen to Madame Hooch as she gave instructions.

"Good morning, class, and welcome to The Race. You will start from this mark and race to the toss circle of the Quidditch Stadium. Your path will be marked for you by these," she indicated the small, glowing blue orb next to her, and the first years traced the trail they showed with their eyes until it disappeared out of sight. "There will be teachers posted along the route to make sure that you all follow the path and that no cheating occurs in other aspects," she gave a severe look to the gathered first years before asking, "All right, everyone has a broom, then? I'll line you up, come on, move quickly, we don't have all day, that's it."

They all stood, shoulder to shoulder with the person next to them, Remus between Ralston Turpin and Claire Warren. The Ravenclaw was starring out in front of him intensely, his breath ghosting in front of him in thick clouds in the chilly November air, while Claire glanced around her nervously, as though she was looking for escape routes. Remus reached out a hand to her shoulder, and smiled when she jumped slightly and turned to him.

"You'll do fine. This isn't really as big of a deal as everyone makes it out to be."

"I've just never been comfortable on brooms, and certainly not on brooms that are going fast."

"Take it easy. Unless you want to play Quidditch some day, this race barely matters."

"Thank you, Remus," she said, touching his hand for a moment before turning to talk to Chris on her other side, who was vibrating with his own nervous excitement. Remus looked down at his own hands, which shook violently, giving way his own excitement about The Race to come. He had lied to Claire a little, because it was just as big of a deal as everyone made it out to be. It was the biggest event in a student's first year, and one of the biggest events in an entire Hogwarts career. The winner could claim his title years from now, would go down in history as _the_ winner of his year. No matter how long ago they'd graduated or how little they cared about flying or Quidditch, no one ever forgot who won The Race in their year.

"All right, everyone, get ready, mount up, about time to go," said Hooch, walking the line in front of them, "Stay calm, no need to worry about it, don't make yourselves sick. Everybody up?" she wandered back down, and climbed a short ladder up to a little platform where McGonagall already sat.

The clock struck the first toll of noon, and a hush settled over the grounds. Remus could feel Ralston and others down the line tensing, and felt his own shoulders pull tight, leaned close to the broom. The sixth toll rang out, and he dug his toe into the soft ground as Hooch lifted her whistle to her lips.

_Eight…Nine…Ten_, he counted in his head, drawing in a huge breath as _Eleven_ went by and all the air in the world seemed to disappear for a moment. And then Hooch gave a short, ear-piercing blast on her whistle to accompany _Twelve_, and the air came back in one huge _whoosh_. They were off.

_This is mad_, Remus thought, as his borrowed broom bucked at the sudden increase in speed before settling, and Ralston and Claire disappeared from his peripheral vision to be replaced by two people he couldn't identify because of speed. _And I love it_. He flattened himself against his broom, took short breathes as the chilled air rushed around him, his eyes stinging as he took the first turn sharply.

Everything around him was a rushing mass of green and black, the trees around them blurring with the other riders, and the world was out of control and messy and _fast_, pure speed and height and adrenaline for a little while, and he loved it, he thought, as he took another corner, loved every crazy moment of it. This was far removed from the dark halls of Hogwarts, from his quiet bedroom in the house at the edge of the forest. This was staring at Greyback; this was the adventures from his favorite books, danger and the bitter taste of adrenaline.

He couldn't tell if there was anyone behind him anymore, but there was only one person in front of him and one beside him. The small piece of green fabric attached to the broom in front of him identified it as Slytherin, and even at this speed Remus could identify the slicked back black hair of McNair. He pushed closer to his broom, could feel the handle pressing into his breastbone, his feet straining back against the tail.

The air grew colder and the brooms slowed slightly as they sped out over the lake, and Remus glanced sideways at the rider next to him. Win's long hair was pushed back from his face by the speed, his knuckles white against the handle, but he looked at Remus and winked quickly. Both of the Gryffindors had drawn almost even with McNair by this point, and Win dropped down for a moment, flipping his broom and allowing the tips of his hair to brush the water before coming back up on McNair's other side. McNair couldn't turn until either of the Gryffindors had.

Remus saw the kick coming out of the corner of his eye, one leg extending from the back of McNair's broom just as they rounded a corner to head off the lake and towards the pitch and the finish line. He pulled up slightly, avoiding the kick, but was now trailing McNair and Win by a broom length down the final stretch of the race to the pitch.

He pulled in his elbows and knees, pushing his chest harder against the broom, could feel himself gaining slightly with each second that passed, but the huge wall of the Quidditch pitch loomed in front of the three racers, and Remus could now feel other racers behind him.

And then Win twitched. It wasn't much, but his body leaned closer to McNair for just a moment, and as the Slytherin swerved slightly, Remus drew even with the other two. They entered the stadium nearly shoulder to shoulder. The roar as they took the first curve shook the magical path with its intensity.

Remus could see the path out in front of them, a spiraling mess of a thing with Madame Hooch and the finish line at its center. He heard Win's curse even with the wind roaring past his ears, and looked over to watch the other boy struggle through the turns, dropping further and further back with every one. McNair was taking them effortlessly, barely using his body at all, just little twitches of his fingers. He was clearly a natural.

But Remus had spent more time on a broom growing up than he had on the ground, his father bringing his work home with him, and he'd found a grace to it that he'd always been unsure of with both feet on the ground. And now, with the wind roaring in his ears, drowning out the crowd noise almost completely, with the bitter taste of adrenaline in his mouth, he let instinct and memory fly for him. He tried to figure out the pattern, but they were going too fast for that, and he let the speed and adrenaline take over and flew.

The center circle was drawing nearer and nearer, but suddenly the gradual curves they'd been taking were becoming sharper and sharper. The final turn was looming, a ninety degree left turn to the straight shot towards the finish line, with McNair on the inside of him. He couldn't turn until McNair did, and the Slytherin was obviously going to wait until the last possible moment, meaning Remus would almost certainly hit the magical barrier marking out the course. Remus had seconds left to figure out what to do.

_It shouldn't work_, he thought, _not in a million years_. But it was all he had left, so Remus tilted the handle of the broom down just enough as they reached the turn, dropping just enough below McNair to get by him. And then he swung his leg out and back into the tail of the broom, could hear the slight splintering as the broom turned sharply under McNair. He flattened himself against the handle again and shot off towards the finish line as the other boy tried to turn his broom.

He had heard the roar from the crowd at his turn, but it was nothing compared to the sound which now shook the stadium as he crossed the finish line a few seconds before McNair. Turning his broom almost perpendicular to his former course, Remus brought his broom to a stop before righting himself and holding his arms up in victory. Win reached him first, having finished just behind McNair, pulling the red marker off Remus's broom and giving it to him to wave.

Adam was next, not even bothering to slow down much before he reached Remus, throwing his arms around the taller boy's middle and nearly taking both of them off their brooms. Win laughed as he waved his own red flag above his head as Tonks collided with Adam and Remus, and then Jeremiah hit him from the side with a whoop.

Remus looked around at the small crowd of people gathered at the finish line, realized that Gryffindor must have finished five people in the top 15. He saw McNair over to the side, nodding as he received the applause from the Slytherin section, looking disappointed but putting on a show for his house. Second place was still something to be proud of in The Race.

But Remus didn't want to think about second place right now. Untangling one arm from the group of Gryffindors that now included Lewis and Sophia, he whirled the small red flag around his head as the house cheered him from their section above. Several hands in his back pushed him forward, and he glanced back towards Hooch for approval for only a moment before taking off, still riding high on victory, speed, adrenaline.

The cheers grew clearer as he got closer, the pure noise turning into a steady chant of "Lupin! Lupin! Lupin!" Ben, standing in the front row, beckoned him closer, grabbing his hand to shake it roughly when he complied. His whole arm jerked with the motion, and he grinned at Ben's enthusiasm as others reached out to shake his hand as well. The chant didn't die down or lose volume until he returned to the platform that had been quickly and magically assembled behind the finish line, and even then only because Dumbledore himself called for quiet. Remus stared up at the Gryffindor crowd in astonishment, could still fell their enthusiasm even from his place at the front of the stage.

Charlie leaned over his shoulder from behind with a grin, "It's amazing, isn't it? They're all crazy buggers, but they're the best kind of crazy buggers 'cause they do it out of love. No feeling in the world quite like getting a cheer from the good ol' Gryffs."

Remus turned to examine the line of people behind him, the past champions of The Race who were still at the school. Jacque Floyde stood at the far left, a tiny girl with pale skin and pale hair with Marcy Davide to her right, and Willi Pop, Charlie, Yell Reimer and Mackenzie Gerritsen finishing out the line of students that Remus stood immediately in front of them. Behind them stood Professor Armistead and Linkin, who had both won The Race in their first years and were still honored with a place on stage according to tradition since they were both technically still at the school. Remus was puzzled when he saw the caretaker on the stage, but was distracted when Dumbledore began to speak.

"Ah, another year, another successful running of The Race, one of Hogwarts' greatest competitions, and another triumphant champion. This year, for the second year in a row and the 6th time in 7 years, the champion is a Gryffindor." Here Dumbledore paused to allow the raucous cheering from the Gryffindor section and a short chant of 'Gryffindor! Gryffindor!' to fill the stadium. "May I present this year's champion, Mr. Remus Lupin!" Applause filled the stadium again, most of it polite as the Gryffindors exploded once again. Their enthusiasm seemed to know no bounds.

Remus stepped over to where Dumbledore and Hooch stood waiting next to Jacque. Dumbledore looked down at him with a smile as he shook his hand, and then Remus bent his neck slightly so that Madame Hooch could slip a small gold medal on a black ribbon over his head before she shook his hand. He continued down the line, feeling slightly off strange as he shook hands with Jacque and Marie, who weren't much older than he was. Reaching Willi, Remus realized with a shock that he was considerably taller than the Gryffindor Chaser, and it was odd, towering over someone who was three years older than he was.

He noticed a pattern in the champions as he moved on to Charlie, Yell and Mac, who were all tall and broad across the shoulders, where as the first three champions were tiny. Remus felt like a weird hybrid of the two groups, tall like the last three but not nearly as broad as any of them. When he reached Armistead, the professor smiled as he clasped his hand warmly and leaned over slightly to speak to him.

"Well, I suppose Marcy and I are the only ones who are keeping it from being solid red up here. I think I'm going to have to have some words with my old house. It wouldn't do to have any solid color but yellow up here." Remus laughed with Armistead, and then moved on to Linkin.

The caretaker didn't look at all happy to be on the stage, and only briefly took Remus's hand before letting go, something which Remus was grateful for. Because as soon as the older man's hand came into contact with Remus's skin, a searing, unbelievable pain ripped through the scar tissue of Remus's right shoulder and up into his neck. Gasping softly, Remus stumbled away from Linkin, hand shooting up to his shoulder protectively. Only then did Linkin smile, a quick flash of sharpened teeth with a strange glee behind it. His eyes, pale blue at the center, had an unsettling ring of green-brown around the edge, and Remus felt himself unconsciously moving back towards Armistead. The professor looked at the caretaker suspiciously for a moment before Linkin moved quickly off of and away from the stage.

With the medal awarded and the hands shaken, The Race was officially over for another year, and the other champions began to drift away from the stage, all stopping to congratulate Remus one more time before leaving. Charlie and Mac remained near the center of the stage, holding hands, heads bent together in silent conversation, and Remus realized that it would be the last time that either of them stood on the stage. Leaving the stage to the older couple, Remus made his way over to where Tonks and Adam stood, rubbing at his shoulder.

Tonks noticed it immediately. "What's wrong?" she asked, hand reaching out to pry his fingers away from their place on his neck, covering the scar. She and Adam both gasped a little, and Remus tried to reach to cover it again, but Tonks had a firm grip around his fingers.

"What happened?" she asked again, staring intently at the side of his neck, and Remus shrugged his shoulders up, trying to hide his scar, wondering what was happening to it that warranted this level of study.

"When I shook Linkin's hand," he said, and then hesitated, suddenly ashamed of how ridiculous it sounded in his head, but continued at Tonks's glare, "When I shook his hand, my scar hurt. That's it. I probably just twisted my shoulder funny or something," he finished, with another shrug and it sounded even more ridiculous out loud.

But at that point, Tonks grabbed his hand and pulled him behind her, leading him out of the stadium and up towards the castle, Adam behind them, jogging to keep up. She pulled him through the Entrance Hall and past the Great Hall, full of people and sound, up the stairs. They finally found what she was looking for on the third floor, and Tonks stopped abruptly in front of a small mirror. Wordlessly, she pointed and Remus turned to look at his reflection.

The scar, normally a pale pink, was an angry, violent red, almost glowing, and as Remus raised his hand to it again, he could feel the heat spilling off of it. He turned to look at Tonks and Adam, who were both staring at him in disbelief.

"I don't think you just twisted your shoulder weirdly, Remus," said Tonks.

"There was something weird about his eyes," said Remus, the only thing he could think of as his fingers tingled with the heat of his scar.

"On the upside," said Adam, smiling slightly, "I think this means that you're not the crazy one."

**Hey, I think there might actually, maybe be a little plot in amongst all the Quidditch and such. And I'm sure you're all like "What is this Race thing she's talking about? That's not canon." I know. But it's there to do some character stuff, and to be all awesome and adrenaliny and who knows why Harry doesn't do it. Maybe it gets outlawed at some point. Maybe Harry is disqualified because he's already on the Gryffindor team. I have six stories to figure that out in. But in this series, I'm trying to concentrate as much on the characters as I do on the plot. I understand why JK Rowling had to follow Harry, and develop the immediate cast of characters near Harry, but I want as many of the characters as possible to be full, rich characters in this one. And on that note, if you have a favorite OC that you want to know more about, or want to appear more? Let me know in a review. I've got storylines worked up for most of them, but I'd always love to hear feedback on them.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Het big bang and real life swallowed up everything for a long time, especially my inspiration for the end of this chapter. I finally found a little time and inspiration to finish it, and I hope that I have a couple more chapters up over Christmas break.**

By the next day, the intense red had faded back to its normal pale pink and the scar had stopped giving off the overwhelming heat that had poured off it after Remus had shaken Linkin's hand. Tonks had wanted him to visit the hospital wing, so that Madame Pomfrey could at least inspect it and make sure nothing was wrong with it. But when he showed her the next day that it was back to normal, not even she could come up with a good argument for it. No one else had seemed to notice really, or at least, Remus thought no one else had noticed, until Professor Armistead called out to him as the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs filed out of the Defense classroom Monday.

"Remus, can I see you for a moment? It won't take long," he said, and Remus told Tonks and Adam to continue on to lunch without him before heading back up towards Armistead's desk, racking his brain for anything he could have done to be in trouble.

"You're not in trouble," Armistead said with a smile at the look on Remus's face. "I've seen that look before," he continued in answer to another one of Remus's unasked questions, "It's pretty much required material for teachers."

He indicated the chair he'd moved around in front of the desk, and once Remus had sat, studied him intently with silver eyes before speaking, "What was the business with you and Linkin at the ceremony yesterday? He's never been particularly happy about having to participate, but he looked down right angry yesterday to have to shake your hand. And you pulled away like you'd been burned as soon as he touched you, and I couldn't help but notice that your scar was even more, well, noticeable than usual immediately afterwards. You get on his bad side somehow?"

Remus squirmed for a second, his left hand once again reaching instinctively for the scar, before answering, "It hurt when I shook his hand, just around my scar, just for a second, but it hurt a lot. I don't know why it did that, except," and he paused, again feeling ridiculous, but Armistead raised an eyebrow at him and Remus continued, "There was something strange about his eyes. The centers were pale blue, but around the outside there was a darker ring, kind of green-brown. Sort of like, well, they were like Greyback's almost. And his teeth weren't normal either. Too sharp. I don't know what any of this has to do with my scar acting up, but it struck me as strange, I guess."

"Hmm," said Armistead before glancing down at the book sitting open on his desk. Remus waited for a moment in the silence as the professor read, before scooting forward in his chair a little and asking, "What's that, sir?"

Armistead looked up, and studied him for a second before he answered, turning the book for Remus to read, "I'm sure you've read about the recent robberies, the centaur ashes?" Remus nodded as he noticed the small stack of papers that had been sitting under the book. There'd been three additional robberies since the Halloween one, two from private apothecaries and another from a mid-level security vault at Gringotts, and _The__Daily__Prophet_seemed to now include almost daily updates on the search, if 'No new information has been discovered, and the authorities remain baffled' could count as an update.

"After the last robbery a few weeks ago, I remembered something I read a long time ago, must have been about my third year at school, in a book about rare healing methods based around magical creatures and so I went searching through my collection for it, and, lo and behold, there it was," he said, leaning forward slightly to point out the paragraph in question.

Remus read silently: _Centaur __ashes, __while __having __several __uses __in __some __of __the __more __complicated __potions __known __to __wizarding __kind, __have __very __little __use __in __the __medical __field. __One __of __the __few __known __uses __is __in __the __healing __of __wounds __caused __by __chemical __or __acidic __substances, __usually __large __burns. __The __ashes __should __be __spread __as __thickly __and __evenly __as __possible __on __a __large __piece __of __granite __roughly __square __and __larger __than __a __person__'__s __torso, __so __that __the __ashes __cover __the __stone __completely. __When __burned, __the __ashes __produce __a __rather __putrid __smoke, __which __the __injured __person __inhales. __Several __hours __later, __most __of __their __injuries __should __have __disappeared. __The __ashes __are __extremely __rare, __due __to __the __longevity __of __centaurs __and __their __natural __avoidance __of __all __humans. __After __potions __masters __and __apothecary __owners, __the __biggest __demographic __seeking __centaur __ashes __are __werewolves, __seeking __relief __from __silver __burns. __To __be __most __effective __against __those, __the __ashes __should __be __burned __on __moonstone, __rather __than __granite._

Remus looked up from the book with a tightness in his chest, with _werewolves, __seeking __relief __from __silver __burns_ bouncing around his head, drowning out all other thought, to find Armistead studying him over his folded hands. Wordlessly, he handed the book back to the professor, who glanced over the paragraph himself before closing the book, using the stack of papers to mark his place.

"I know that Mr. Linkin suffered a severe injury to his spinal cord when he was younger, which is the cause of his stoop, but I don't know much more than that. I do know that he checked this book out of the library at the end of last year and never returned it. Madame Pince is rather forthcoming with information when it comes to late library books. I have a feeling she now expects me to personally hunt him down and demand he return it," said Armistead, giving a small smile at the joke, but obviously sensing Remus's anxiety. "When you reacted so negatively to his handshake, I began to wonder."

"Do you think he could have really pulled off all these robberies?" asked Remus, staring at the closed book rather than making eye contact with Professor Armistead, thinking of Linkin's obvious stoop, his slow shuffling walk, and couldn't picture him possibly getting anywhere near the entrance of Gringotts, much less into two mid-level security vaults without someone noticing.

"I don't know. Perhaps I'm jumping to conclusions. But your reaction to him yesterday, what happened to your scar, that can't be nothing, Remus. Please, don't ignore it if anything else happens between the two of you. I didn't like the smile he had after shaking your hand yesterday."

Remus nodded numbly, and Armistead stood, smiling and moving the book on to a small table behind his desk, "Well, I suppose we should be heading down for lunch. I'm sure you're hungry, and I know I am. Congratulations again on your victory yesterday, by the way. I remember how amazing it felt, like electricity. Remus?" he finished, when he noticed that the boy walking next to him wasn't paying attention.

"What? Oh, sorry, I just… I was thinking about, about Greyback. You don't think that he could, he could get a hold of centaur ashes?"

Armistead stopped just short of the staircase, surprised, "I hadn't thought of that. I suppose with your history, that particular sentence jumped out at you. I have no reason to suspect that Greyback is involved, but it could be possible. Do you have any reason to believe he's involved?"

Remus shook his head. "No. I guess it's just an automatic reaction. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. Very understandable, considering the circumstances. But Remus, please do keep me updated on the situation with Linkin. It may have just been coincidence, but I'd rather be cautious than brush it off as nothing. Did you go to see Madame Pomfrey yesterday? To have that looked at?"

"No. Once it went away, I didn't see any reason to. Tonks wanted me to," he said, and Armistead laughed.

"I think Tonks may have a point. If it happens again, I would most definitely recommend a visit to the Hospital Wing, as a precautionary measure, in the least. And again, anything that happens with Linkin that you notice, let me know. I've alerted Professor Dumbledore to my suspicions, but he knows more about Linkin's situation than I do and doesn't seem inclined to suspect him of the thefts. I did not tell him of your encounter with Linkin yesterday. Have there been any other incidents?" Something nagged at the back of Remus's mind, but, unable to put a finger on the feeling, he shook his head.

"Well, I'm glad we talked," said the professor as they approached The Great Hall after a long few minutes of silence, Remus lost in thought, trying to track down the memory that eluded him.

"Uh, yeah," said Remus, jerking away from his thoughts before waving a quick good-bye to Armistead and heading off to find Tonks and Adam.

* * *

November passed quickly into December. At the Slytherin-Hufflepuff Quidditch match, Kurt Davide showed off his amazing flying and Gary Sharpeton showed off his own awesome chanting skills in a big win, and anticipation for their match against Gryffindor grew. But nothing could match the anticipation of Christmas break that flooded the castle in the weeks following the match.

Remus hadn't had any further encounters with Linkin since The Race ceremony, but he was still relieved when it came time to board the train bound for Kings Cross Station a week before Christmas. The castle had felt stifling and cramped as he tried to avoid running into the caretaker, and despite the frigid December temperature and the snow that covered the grounds in a silent blanket, Remus had often fled outside to walk the shoreline of the frozen lake when it had become simply too much, tucked deeply into his cloak and scarf. Tonks and Adam trailed after him, Adam complaining about the cold loudly and Tonks rolling her eyes at the pair of them.

The train sped through the quiet, snow-covered countryside, and Remus had settled into a corner of the compartment the three Gryffindors had secured for themselves and watched as the other two played chess. Neither of them had any real talent for the game, but they seemed to have such fun playing that Remus couldn't help but smile as he watched them.

"First time I've seen you do that in a while, mate," said Adam, commanding his bishop forward. It was cut down almost immediately by Tonks's queen, and she did a little dance of celebration in her seat while Adam's unfortunate piece was dragged off the board.

"He's right, you know, Remus. You've been sort of broody this past month. Not bad broody, just sort of silent, long walks in the freezing cold, not talk about your problems kind of broody," added Tonks as Adam chewed the inside of his thumb as he considered his next move.

"Sorry," he said, apologizing because he didn't know what else to do. He hadn't told them about Armistead's suspicions or his own worry over Greyback's possible involvement in the robberies, hoping that by ignoring them they would slowly drift out of thought. Instead, he had spent large amounts of time pacing the snowy shore of the huge lake and hiding away up in his dormitory reading anything he could get his hands on.

"It's nothing to apologize for. Unless, is it something to apologize for? Knight to B4. Did you do something?" said Adam, turning away from the board to scrutinize Remus, and the other boy laughed.

"No, at least, I don't think I did. I suppose I just felt kind of shut up in the castle and wanted to get outside more than I could. Made me sort of stir crazy. Being home will help, I think," he said, moving deeper into the folds of his cloak, feeling suddenly sleepy. The others nodded in agreement before turning back to concentrate on their game. Remus dozed as he watched the board, smiling slightly when Tonks's knight viciously knocked over Adam's king as the train slowed to a halt.

"You two play some of the longest chess games known to wizarding kind," he said as they packed up the set and reached for their bags.

"It is not my fault that Adam routinely has to be reminded how each piece can and cannot move," said Tonks, as Remus stood, stretching and pulling his own bag from the luggage rack.

Adam snorted. "This from the girl who ended up with both bishops on the white."

"This from the boy who didn't realize it until the second to last move," Tonks mocked back as the three of them followed the crowd off of the train and on to the platform. Remus couldn't spot his family for a few moments, and bid Tonks and Adam Happy Christmas when they quickly left to search for their own families. He remained standing in the same place, near the train but out of the way of the rush of students still pouring out of the cars.

Eventually, he spotted his father's head across the platform, and pushed his way over as quickly as the crowd would allow. Almost as soon as he broke free from the press of people rushing around, saying goodbyes and looking for their own families, two blurs thumped into his legs with alarming force and latched on to them firmly.

Bending at the waist to wrap his arms around his younger brothers, Remus smiled as they loosened their grip to allow him to hug them properly. "Hey, Sam, Law. I'm not going anywhere, not for awhile, I promise," he said, and felt his hands shaking, realized just how glad he was to be home, away from the castle and his worries about Linkin and Greyback. When the twins finally released him, he wrapped his arms around his dad, taking a deep breath to draw in the familiar scent, old habits dying hard.

"Welcome home, R.J," he said, and Remus tried to calm his shaking, didn't want his father to worry as he released him and passed him off to his mother, who almost deformed his spine with her own crushing hug.

It was good to be home.

* * *

The next day, Gryffindor scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, Remus used the well-worn footholds in the wooden fence between his own backyard and the neighboring house's to hop over and land in the well-trimmed grass of the other backyard. Horton Quick had moved away shortly after the fall of You-Know-Who, having made a small fortune of his patent for his Quick Quotes Quill, and had been replaced soon after by the Samurs.

Janice Samur had been a good friend of Rosey Lupin's at school, as well as her sister Jean, and Remus could still remember the sadness that had filled the house in the weeks after their deaths and the death of Jean's husband in a Death Eater attack. When You-Know-Who had fallen and the world was returning to some form of normalcy, John and Rosey had sought out Janice's Muggle husband, Charles, and he and their two children, Nick and Jan, had moved into Quick's old house.

Nick Samur, a year younger than Remus, dark haired and dark eyed, was standing across the yard, tattered Quaffle clutched in his left hand. As he watched, Nick pulled back and unleashed a left-handed throw across the yard that hit the center of the painted white circle dead on and rattled the boards of the fence.

Remus scooped it up and tossed it back, "Nice shot." Nick nodded, wound up, and threw again, Remus picking it up and throwing it back. They continued in this fashion silently for a while. Nick would say something eventually, and until then Remus was content in the quiet.

"How's Hogwarts?" he asked after about five minutes.

"Amazing," Remus said with a smile as another thump sounded through the small yard.

"Your parents said you won The Race this year, showed me the letter. That's cool. Congratulations."

"Thanks. It was crazy, but fun."

"I'll bet," Nick said, a dreamy quality in his voice as he stopped his throwing rhythm for a moment, "How's the Quidditch?"

Remus grinned, knowing that Nick was most anxious to hear about the Quidditch, "It's brilliant. Looks like the Cup will come down to whoever wins the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match, unless one of them gets upset. But it's amazing, fast and loud, and some of the players; I've never seen anything like them, Nick. Amazing."

"Good," said Nick, stars in his eyes for a moment, and then they were silent but for the thump of the Quaffle against the fence. Remus and Nick had been friends since the Samurs had moved into the house, and most of the time, they spent like this. Sometimes, Nick would throw a battered tennis ball into the air as hard as he could so that Remus could track it with his eyes and catch it coming down. Nick's uncle, Andrew, had been a star at Hogwarts, and he sought out the sport as his biggest connection to his decreased family members.

After an hour or so, Charles Samur called his son in for dinner and Remus climbed back over the fence to his own yard and his own dinner.

* * *

The next night, rather than going to bed, Remus sat in the window of his room, alternating between staring out at the full moon and re-reading the newspaper clutched in his hand, the title grubby from his tight grip on the newspaper but still readable: _Ashes __Thefts __Continue!_ A knock on the door startled him, and he guiltily hid the newspaper behind his back as his father poked his head around the door.

"Thought you might still be up. What have you got there?" he asked, and Remus handed the paper over, staring at his hands as his father read silently.

"Hm. I thought you looked spooked when you saw this. Want to tell me why?"

"Just something one of the professors mentioned. That silver burns can be healed using centaur ashes," Remus answered with a shrug, gaze drawn to the full moon outside the window.

"Ahhh. And you haven't mentioned anything because…" said John, trailing off, and Remus shrugged again. John didn't move from his spot next to him, paper held between the two of them. "You know you can tell me, right? You can tell me anything. What else are dads for?"

Remus was silent for a few minutes more, staring, before he spoke, his voice small and scratchy. "It feels like I'm afraid all the time. Of him coming back. And it's dumb. I haven't seen him in five years, not one time, and I'm still scared _all __the __time_."

They were silent for a long while after that, John's arm around Remus's shoulders, before he spoke. "That's okay, you know? That you're scared sometimes. It's a strange circumstance, Remus, mighty strange, and anyone in your position would be scared. And I think you're wrong. I don't think you're scared all the time. I think that you get really terrified sometimes, and convince yourself that you feel that way all the time. But Remus, you're one of the bravest boys I know."

"You have to say that. You're my dad," Remus said, from the shoulder where he'd set his head.

"You're right, but I'm not saying that because it's my job. I'm saying it because it's true. And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Where did the Sorting Hat put you?"

"Gryffindor."

"Right, Gryffindor, where go the bravest and the boldest," said John, but when Remus didn't move his head from his shoulder, "Come on then." He said, standing and pulling his son up after him. Down the hall two doors, past the twins' room, John led Remus into his study, and crossed the room to retrieve a book.

"Learn. The more you know something, the less scary it is. When there's less mystery, there's less to be scared of. You're so brave, Remus. Let knowledge give you courage as well."

Remus flipped the book open to the table of contents, his brow wrinkling in confusion after a moment. "There's no chapter about werewolves in here."

John laughed, "Of course there's not a chapter on werewolves in there. You have to start a little smaller than that. You finish that and I'll give you another, and Hogwarts will have plenty more for you to choose from, all right?"

Remus nodded, and John smiled, "All right, to bed with you."

He returned to his room, but rather than sleeping, Remus spent the night reading. Christmas morning, he unwrapped two gifts from his father, books, one of which had a short chapter on werewolves at the very end. The Samurs came over for Christmas dinner, and as Remus sat with his family and friends after dinner, after so long at Hogwarts, reading and listening to the wireless, he couldn't remember a better Christmas.


End file.
